


The Part That Matters

by irisbleufic



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Ending, Apologies, Asexuality Spectrum, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Romance, Awkwardness, BAMF Farah, Bisexuality, Canon Compliant, Case Fic, Clinging, Communication, Demisexuality, Diners, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, First Kiss, Fix-It, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Injury Recovery, Jewish Character, Kiss and Tell, M/M, Male Friendship, Male-Female Friendship, Medication, Morning After, Multi, Nonverbal Communication, Not Canon Compliant, Pararibulitis (Dirk Gently), Public Display of Affection, Resolved Sexual Tension, Road Trip, Season/Series 01, Touch-Starved, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-07
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-07-08 00:20:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 24,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15919173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irisbleufic/pseuds/irisbleufic
Summary: As they made their escape in the Kellum truck, Beast insinuated herself between Dirk and Todd.“Beauty-beauty boyfriends brave,” she crooned, directing her singsong at anyone who’d listen.Amanda, processing that on top of the kiss, abruptly punched Todd in the shoulder. “You slut!”“Hey,ow,” Todd said, shoving her halfheartedly in return. “We don’t get a thank-you?”“I assure you there’s plenty of wantonness on both sides,” Dirk protested. “Mutual sluttery.”





	1. Kiss and Make Up

Dirk had been thoroughly enjoying what a fine listener his nurse was up until the point that they said something totally unrelated to his case-narrative. He blinked, reprocessing the phrase.

What he _thought_ they had said was something along the lines of, “I need the chair.”

“Sorry?” Dirk asked politely, just to make sure that he didn’t come off as a complete ingrate.

“That you’re in?” continued the nurse, emphasizing their grip on the wheelchair’s handles.

Chest clenching in remorse, Dirk awkwardly began to lever himself up. It was as he’d feared.

“Oh, yes,” he said, getting to his feet with minimal difficulty, remaining apologetic. “Quite.”

The nurse nodded in silent thanks before wheeling on their way, as if to say _good luck_. 

Dirk was of the opinion standing alone in front of a bus stop, with the exception of a lone bystander—or, as the case may be, sitter—was one of the loneliest scenarios it was possible to be in. Emptiness rushed up to meet him more swiftly than a wave of foreboding.

“Oh, well,” Dirk said, waving briefly before clasping his hands behind him. “Here I am again.”

“Where?” asked a familiar voice, unexpected in the sheer normalcy of its immediate response.

Dirk turned his head, fleetingly uncertain as to whether this ought to be classed as a vivid hallucination. Todd approached, so fetching in his dark flannel shirt, so _adorable_ with that pedestrian blue backpack, that Dirk wanted to squeeze him, and…

And that was out of the question, wasn’t it? Todd had made his stance on Dirk perfectly clear.

Nonetheless, Todd was looking at him with a sort of bafflingly contrite, vulnerable invitation.

“Todd, you’re…here,” said Dirk, carefully weighing his options. “But the…the case is over.”

Todd nodded, tilting his head with almost instant concern toward Dirk’s concealed injuries.

“How’s your shoulder?” he asked, his tone illogically heartbreaking in its plaintive sincerity.

“It’s…terrible, actually,” Dirk said, pressing tentative fingers at the first arrow’s entrance-point, using the pain to ground himself. “Look, I don’t—I don’t understand. Did you want something from me, or…? I can’t help you, I—I can’t do anything to help your situation, or what I said—”

As Dirk’s panic rose, as he ran his mouth faster, Todd continued his oddly frightened approach.

“Dirk, just for a second, would you stop with the—look, this is…” Todd swallowed, lifting his hand, fingers stilling just shy of Dirk’s abraded cheek. “Jesus, that looks—” he shook his head as if to clear it “—Dirk, can I…”

“Yes,” Dirk whispered tremulously, guiding Todd’s hand to cover the laceration, ignoring the sudden sting. “Yes, please,” he went on, knowing that if this was going where he hoped, the pain was immaterial. “If…I mean, only if you…”

Todd slid his left arm around Dirk and used it to lever himself up, graceful as you please. He kissed Dirk as if every word he couldn’t bring himself to say was in the press of his lips.

Dirk leaned into the contact, mouth opening eagerly against Todd’s, his shoulder burning. Whether the sound he made was a wince or a moan was irrelevant. He was kissing Todd.

The man on the bench behind them whistled, although there wasn’t any particular malice in it.

Dizzy as Todd finally drew back from him, Dirk tried to chase his lips, whimpering at the loss.

“I don’t need help,” Todd said, brushing his thumb along Dirk’s cheekbone before bringing his hand to the strap of his backpack. “I need…” He gave Dirk a meaningful look, tilting his head at the man on the bench, who was paying too much attention. “Here,” he continued, unzipping his backpack in order to remove Dirk’s yellow jacket. “I got this from your apartment.”

“Oh, um…” Dirk shook the jacket in dismay, still buzzing with the wondrous contact he’d lost.

Todd removed another item from the backpack, this one shapeless and black, handing it to Dirk.

“It’s a Mexican Funeral t-shirt,” Todd said, his cheeks gone pink. “I don’t have many left, so try not to—” he watched breathlessly as Dirk held the shirt up against his chest “—get shot in it.”

“Look, I’m sorry,” Dirk faltered, once again consumed by doubt. “You’re…” He clutched the jacket and shirt, wondering if, thanks to the morphine they’d pumped into his system, he’d hallucinated the last thirty seconds. “What do you want? Why are you here?”

“I’m here because I’m your friend,” Todd said, apology and confession all at once. “Besides, I don’t want to miss out on when the next case starts.”

 _Is kissing like that a thing friends do?_ Dirk wanted to ask. Instead, he stammered uselessly for a few seconds before surging forward, nosy man on the bench be damned.

Todd met him halfway, swept up in the same speechless, emotional quandary. He lingered this time, swiping his tongue across Dirk’s lower lip, shyly nipping at it.

It was Dirk’s turn to withdraw, abashed, as the man behind them said, “C’mon, get a room.”

“Didn’t you say this band hated you?” Dirk asked, averting his eyes under the guise of disdain.

“Yeah, well,” Todd said, tucking the articles of clothing securely over Dirk’s left arm before tentatively taking his right hand. “We’re late. Farah wants to meet up.”

“What, really?” Dirk asked, all too willing to be slowly, carefully be dragged along by Todd.

“Yeah,” Todd said, giving him that sweet, crinkly-eyed smile as he dragged Dirk over to an unassuming silver sedan. “Really. She’s okay. I hope you haven’t been too worried.”

“When it comes to you and Farah,” he said as Todd helped him into the car, “I always worry.”

“Same with you guys,” Todd said, quickly making his way around to the driver’s side. “Ready?”

Dirk stared at him, fingers fretting with the zipper of his coat, overwhelmed by the need to touch.

“Shit,” he whispered, reaching across the center console. “I need you, too. I need you so, _so_ —”

Todd quieted him with a kiss—real, those two other kisses had been _real_ —but softer this time, more chaste and reassuring. He stroked Dirk’s cheek again, too lightly to hurt.

“ _Shhh_. We can…later. My place, your place, I don’t care. Right now, I’ve gotta drive.”

 _We can what?_ Dirk thought, his head spinning as Todd navigated them out of the parking lot. _Kiss some more? Discuss our unbelievably convoluted feelings? Have it off very, very carefully because our bodies are falling apart?_

Todd shot him an apprehensive glance, pointing to the items of clothing bunched in Dirk’s lap.

“You should change into those,” he said, and then realized the implications of saying such a thing. “I mean, it’s not that—you don’t have to, but I just thought you’d want—”

“Drive now, talk later,” Dirk said, unzipping the hoodie the hospital had given him. He struggled out of the boring undershirt they’d provided along with it, hissing in pain.

All the while, Todd blinked rapidly at the road ahead. It was taking all of his willpower not to glance over, and that provided Dirk with the answer to at least one of his questions.

Dirk finished donning the t-shirt with discomfort. Getting the jacket on was more of a chore, but all he could think was, _If the physical is what you can offer me for now, I’ll take it._

The diner that Farah had chosen was in an offbeat, trendy part of town, and it wasn’t terribly crowded. Dirk was relieved when they were able to find street parking less than a block away, and the fact that Todd held his hand until they had to go inside made him giddy.

Farah greeted them with long, tight hugs, and that suited Dirk just fine. Closeness was what he craved after the isolation of a clinical setting, and it was being offered to him freely.

It was a good job Farah didn’t launch her investment proposal until they were well into their meals. If she’d led with that, Dirk would’ve been too excited to eat.

All the while, Todd’s body language continued on the same trajectory. He sat close enough to Dirk on their side of the booth that their arms were almost always touching, and the first excuse he found to brush Dirk’s hand under the table set Dirk’s nerves alight.

His short-lived strop about the title of Ward was in no way upsetting, although he was wrong about the meaning. To be a ward meant to be under guardianship of something, not guardian _of_ it. He’d rather missed the point.

“If somebody comes while I’m gone,” Farah said, wiping her mouth and dropping her napkin as she got up, “no dessert for me, because I’m stuffed. But knock yourselves out.”

“It’s the other way around,” Dirk said as soon as Farah was out of earshot, so as not to humiliate Todd. “I meant that you’re under the Agency’s—and therefore _my_ —protection.”

Todd gave him a crooked smile, nodding to the server who’d come to clear away their plates.

“Okay, so you’re not actually pissing me off,” he allowed, and then turned to the server. “Hey, can I get some coffee? Dirk said he wants some of the house pie.”

“With _lots_ of whipped cream,” said Dirk, insistently. “And three forks, just in case.”

“Sure thing,” the server said, and walked off with their plates in a flawlessly-balanced stack.

Dirk wanted to kiss Todd again for his consideration, but he didn’t know if the setting was conducive. A nearly-deserted bus stop in front of a hospital was one thing, but a diner…

“Not much longer,” Todd said, bumping Dirk’s shoulder with his own. “It’s a lot, isn’t it?”

“It’s…yes,” Dirk agreed, leaning before he realized what he was doing, stopping himself as soon as their foreheads touched. “It’s not just that. It’s everything.”

Farah returned in the split-second they were like that, giving them a puzzled look as she slid back into her side of the booth. Thankfully, the server arrived just then with coffee and pie.

“Looking cozy,” she remarked, stealing a sip of coffee before sliding the mug back at Todd, eyeing Dirk’s dessert. “Whoa, I don’t wanna guess how many calories are in that.”

“Lots,” Dirk said, shoving a forkful of lemon meringue into his mouth. “Necessary to recovery.”

“Sounds legit,” Todd chimed in, stealing one of the strawberry slices garnishing Dirk’s plate.

“So,” Farah said, watching in unabashed amusement as Dirk dug into his pie, “if we do this—”

“We’re already doing it,” Dirk said, elated, offering the next bite to an adorably befuddled Todd.

Todd let Dirk feed it to him, seemingly spurred on by Farah’s fond eye-roll and go-on-then nod.

“Well,” he asked, swallowing with difficulty, clearly keen to speak, “how do we find a case?”

“Just let yourself feel it,” said Dirk, emboldened, letting his free hand drop beneath the table to rest on Todd’s thigh. There was only so much roundabout implication he could stand; if he had to drop hints, so be it. He rubbed over the worn denim, palm coming to rest on Todd’s knee.

Todd nearly choked on his next sip of coffee. He set the mug down and locked eyes with Dirk.

“Feel it?” Farah asked, glancing hesitantly between them. If she’d noticed, she was being polite.

“Yes,” Dirk said emphatically, setting down his fork. He lifted his hand from Todd’s leg and placed it on his shoulder, urging Todd to sit back. “Okay, take a moment. Feel anything?”

Todd said nothing, eyes tracking over the ceiling. His fingers brushed the seam of Dirk’s jeans.

“Okay, close your eyes,” Dirk said, ignoring the touch with great effort. He set both hands on Todd’s arm, letting one slide down to cover Todd’s hand on the seat, lacing their fingers idly together during the long seconds as Todd’s breath deepened. “Anything at all?”

“I—” he opened his eyes, tilting his head dubiously at Dirk “—need to go to the bathroom.”

Dirk let go of Todd with reluctance as he rose and slid out of the booth, sighing as he watched Todd leave. Recovering himself, he turned to find Farah eyeing him with mischief.

“It’s…” He gestured uselessly, hoping that his facial expression conveyed the sentiment.

“Mmmhm, yeah,” Farah agreed, taking a moment to stare out the window so she wouldn’t burst into laughter. She glanced back at him a beat later and said, “Hey, um, are you guys…?”

“I _think_?” said Dirk, a frisson of warning taking him by surprise. “I mean, we’ve…” Cold, clear knowledge—something approaching—slipped down his spine. “Farah, would you excuse me for a moment?” he asked, sliding out of the booth. “Just…a moment.”

Outside, the air felt thin as he moved through it, drawing the terrible sense of wrongness, whatever it was, onward to somewhere, _anywhere_. Far from Todd and Farah.

Before he could bend to examine the change of texture beneath his feet, Farah’s strong, familiar grasp locked around his wrist, dragging him back. She didn’t stop until she’d hauled him back inside the diner, apologetically steering him back down into his seat.

“Look, I’m sorry,” she faltered, “but _I_ felt something, okay? It said not to let you run off.”

Dirk nodded up at her dazedly, shoving the unfinished pie in her direction. “Well done, you.”

Farah went around the opposite side of the table, tugging the plate toward herself. “Thanks.”

Dirk might have snatched one of the extra forks and joined her in polishing it off, but the static still coursing through his veins finally surged and scattered. Someone started to scream.

 _No, not someone,_ Dirk realized, watching Farah’s expression turn to horror. _Todd_.

He was out of his seat and dashing in the direction of the loo, or at least the direction in which he’d seen Todd head, as fast as his feet could carry him. The pain in his shoulder exploded.

Todd was on the floor, curled in on himself in the narrow hall, his phone lying not far off.

While Dirk dropped beside him, Farah caught up with them and retrieved Todd’s phone. 

_Oh_ , Dirk realized distantly, gathering a sobbing Todd in his arms. _Amanda_.

“Dirk,” Todd said, clawing at Dirk’s back, too far gone to realize he risked putting pressure on one of Dirk’s injuries. “Dirk, it’s—it’s like I’m—I’m burning all over, I think it’s—”

“An attack,” Farah said numbly, staring at Todd’s phone as the call dropped. “Like Amanda’s.”

Todd, calmer by the second that Dirk clung to him, nodded miserably against Dirk’s shoulder.

“I’ve got you,” Dirk murmured, mouth pressed to Todd’s temple. “It’s all right, we’ll go to your sister’s place and fetch some medication, everything’s going to be…”

“I’m not letting you guys go alone,” Farah said, crouching beside them. “How’d you get here?”

“Rental car,” Todd gritted out, exhaling, tension in him going slack. “I thought we’d need…”

“Keys,” Farah sighed, holding out her hand. “You can’t afford that. I’ll take you guys to Amanda’s place and make sure it gets turned in. I’ll find you another one.”

“Another _car_?” Dirk asked in dismay, taking the keys from Todd’s pocket, handing them over as requested. “Oh, right. Money.”

“Farah, that’s too much,” Todd said weakly, nosing beneath the collar of Dirk’s jacket like contact with skin was his lifeline. “But, yeah…Amanda has lots of…”

“Don’t try to talk,” Dirk said, rubbing Todd’s back, not even caring that Farah outright watched him press a worried kiss to Todd’s cheek. “Do you think you can stand?”

Todd nodded, breath rapid and shallow. He mouthed something inaudible against Dirk’s neck.

“Let’s get him on his feet,” Farah said, apparently unfazed. She helped pull Todd up from the floor, slinging one of Todd’s arms across her shoulders even as Dirk took the other. “Okay.”

“I can tell you how to get to Amanda’s place,” Todd said shakily as they hobbled him toward the exit. “It’s not too far. I have some changes of clothes there if we…”

 _Stay the night_ , Dirk thought, longing to hold Todd as close as he could, to keep him safe.

Amanda’s rented house in the suburbs was in better shape than Todd’s apartment, and it was dusk by the time they arrived. Farah, ready to help Dirk get Todd out of the back, was relieved to see he was more or less standing on his own now. He let Dirk hold him up anyway.

“So, right,” Farah said, running her fingers through her hair, visibly stressed. “I need to take care of this rental car situation. I’m also on call with the security team out at the Spring Estate, and there are a _lot_ of loose ends. Think you guys’ll be okay till tomorrow?”

Dirk didn’t trust himself to speak. He’d end up saying something like _Sure, leave us for a week, we’ll need it_ or _We’re consenting adults, Farah, don’t be daft_.

“We’ll be fine,” Todd said, sounding like himself again. “Just…maybe text in the morning?”

Farah closed her eyes and made finger-guns at them, shoving her hands in her pockets before wandering around to the driver’s side again. Dirk followed, towing Todd with him.

“Farah,” Dirk said quietly, delaying her closing of the door with his free hand. “Thank you.”

“Does no good if my boys are too shot up and sick to function,” said Farah, wryly. “Sleep.”

They watched her pull out into the street and drive away, swaying into each other slightly.

“You need medication,” Dirk said decisively, wheeling them toward the front door. “Now.”

“I mean, the attack has passed,” Todd said, tugging his personal keys out of his back pocket, “but it’s preventative, so…yeah. I don’t want another one soon.”

They’d no sooner gotten inside and locked the door behind them than Todd pulled Dirk down by the lapels. They were messy and uncoordinated; the keys stayed where they fell.

“Todd, the pills,” Dirk panted, nonetheless pulling Todd possessively against him. “Where?”

“Bathroom,” Todd said, sounding as distracted as Dirk felt. “Off the main bedroom, here…”

Dirk let Todd drag him back the darkened hall, flipping light switches as they went.

Once they’d reached the loo, Dirk sat on the edge of the tub and unlaced his shoes with trembling fingers while Todd fumbled with one of the prescription bottles on the counter. He slipped off his jacket, wincing as it fell behind him into the tub. At least it looked dry.

Todd swallowed two pills with a handful of water from the sink, and then came over to perch beside Dirk. He noted Dirk’s cast-off shoes and followed suit, tipping sideways into Dirk.

“I’m not very good at this,” he said, resting his head on Dirk’s shoulder. “In fact, I suck at it.”

“What,” Dirk replied mildly, trying not to let on how fast his heart was beating, “adulting?”

“Yeah, and everything related,” Todd said, smiling against Dirk’s neck. “That’s your area.”

Dirk couldn’t help but grin his face off at the pun, so he got to his feet and offered Todd his hands. Tactical error, it turned out, because that pitched him into instant, excruciating pain.

“Easy, Dirk, _jeez_ ,” Todd said, steadying him. “Do we need to check your bandages?”

“They didn’t say I need to change them,” Dirk said tersely, “what with the stitches, but I have this extremely vague recollection of being told to leave them on until tomorrow-ish.”

“We at least need to make sure you didn’t pull anything,” Todd said, leading him out into the bedroom. He settled Dirk on the edge of the lazily-made bed, skimming tentative fingers along the collar of Dirk’s Mexican funeral tee. “Make sure there’s not blood seeping through, or…”

Dirk sucked in his breath and struggled to pull up the hem, so Todd helped him remove the shirt.

Todd just stared at Dirk for a few seconds, classic deer-in-the-headlights stuff. But he steeled himself quickly enough and brushed his hand along the gauze taped around Dirk’s right shoulder, swathing collarbone and scapula alike. 

There was no seepage, Dirk realized. This was a courteous excuse, a way to forgive themselves for not knowing how else to approach the inevitable. Dirk glanced up, locking eyes with Todd, unaccustomed to a reduction in their height difference.

“You must be quite warm,” he said, bringing his fingers up to pick at Todd’s top few buttons, encouraged when Todd guided his hands to the next few. “Stuffy in here, isn’t it?”

“Amanda likes to joke she has the circulation of a seventy-year-old lady,” Todd said, his breath hitching as Dirk, done with the job, slid his palms from Todd’s sides up to his chest.

Overwhelmed with the knowledge he could touch without fear of consequences, Dirk pulled Todd forward by the hips. He closed his eyes, pressed his mouth to Todd’s heartbeat, and then tipped his chin up so that it rested there. Blinking, he forced out his breath.

"Would it be entirely crass to admit that I…” Dirk swallowed. “I want you, Todd. So much.”

“Would it be crass if I said no,” Todd parried, “and asked if I can strip you the rest of the way?”

Dirk released him, shaking his head wildly. He couldn’t imagine how they’d arrived on the same yearning, seemingly inexperienced page. There he went, hopelessly spiraling out.

“Hey, I can go first,” Todd said, shedding his shirt a little self-consciously. He unbuttoned his jeans, shoved them down, and stepped out of them. He took a detour via sock-removal, and then looked up at Dirk as if they _hadn’t_ ever seen this much of each other before.

“Come here,” Dirk whispered, tugging at him again, all too aware that Todd was already hard inside his boxers. He kissed Todd’s chest again, open-mouthed and shameless, and then low on his belly, lips catching and dragging at his waistband. Todd’s shiver was mesmerizing.

“You're so perfect I can't stand it,” he went on, aware he was babbling, catching a taste of cotton and skin. “Truly, it's—it’s like the universe just knew, _really_ outdid itself on—”

“Dirk, hey,” Todd said, sounding no better off, rubbing Dirk’s arms. “ _Shhh._ C'mon, lay down.”

Feeling determined, if manic, Dirk rubbed his cheek against the front of Todd’s boxers and breathed into the crease of his thigh. He wanted to taste again, taste more, taste _different_.

“But I want this,” he said, hating how petulant he sounded as Todd stroked his hair. “You’re…”

“Later,” Todd said, stepping back so Dirk had no say in the matter, and then nudged at Dirk’s shoulders. “You're stressed and in pain, and I'm taking care of you.”

Nobody to refuse such an endearing proposal, Dirk fell obediently back against the duvet and let Todd wrangle them in the right direction. Amanda’s pillows were soft, for the most part clean.

“Tell me what comes next,” Todd said, dipping to kiss Dirk’s neck. “You get to call the shots.”

“Take these off,” Dirk panted, frantic, shoving at Todd’s waistband. “Take _mine_ off.”

The situation was awkward for the fact that Dirk was still in trousers, never mind the maddening restriction of his boxer-briefs. Todd shimmied out of his first, maybe another gesture of good faith, and it was all Dirk could do not to rush, to instinctively _reach_.

“Hold on,” Todd said, unfastening Dirk’s jeans, enough to make Dirk whimper. He finished the job in several methodical tugs as he backed his way down the bed, tossing Dirk’s bottom layers on the floor. “How about these?” he asked, brushing Dirk’s sock-covered insteps.

“Smart-arse,” Dirk breathed reproachfully, opening his eyes wide, lifting his head. “Those, too.”

Sockless in no time, he lay staring at an enticingly naked Todd as if dinner hadn’t been enough.

“Oh,” he said, reaching again, always stubbornly reaching, even as Todd complied, “ _please_.”

Todd was on Dirk in a heartbeat—his warm anchor, everything he wanted. He pressed impossibly close, groaning into Dirk’s mouth as their teeth clashed, grinding Dirk so desperately into the mattress that Dirk felt dizzy with it.

“You’re shaking,” Todd gasped, fingers tangled with Dirk’s above their heads. “Does it hurt—”

“Touch me,” Dirk pleaded, fretfully squeezing Todd’s hands. “I need you to touch me  _now_.”

“Fuck _yes_ ,” Todd said, rolling away so abruptly that Dirk wanted to scream. “Wait…”

Whatever he rummaged out of the bedside dresser-thingy had better prove useful, because—ah, _well_. Water-based lubricant was a sensible contingency most young people kept around.

Todd settled in against Dirk’s side, cleverly managing to flip the cap while Dirk continued to kiss him. His cock twitched against Dirk’s side, so Dirk gave it a brush by feel alone.

“Don’t distract me!” Todd yelped, and, in a blink, his slick hand was right where Dirk wanted it.

Dirk couldn’t think, couldn’t draw breath except to cry out. He clung to Todd more tightly with each stroke, heat flooding him from chest to belly faster than was even fair.

“Dirk,” Todd said, still stroking him, kissing him soothingly through the come-down. “Wow.”

“I wasn’t _lying_ ,” Dirk said breathlessly, scrabbling for the tube even as satiated and hazy as he felt. “If I say I need you to do something, I bloody well mean it.”

“That took, like, five seconds,” Todd said, kissing Dirk deeply now, less coordinated, “and was the hottest thing I’ve ever…”

“Ever what?” Dirk prompted, closing his hand around Todd, moving with Todd’s tight thrusts.

“Ever seen, _Christ_ ,” Todd cursed, tugging Dirk’s hand away, shifting so they were hip to hip. 

Pressed flush, Dirk could wrap around Todd to his heart’s content, ankles locked at the small of Todd’s back. He raked his fingers through Todd’s hair, and that was the proverbial last straw.

Todd shuddered through his climax, not at all quiet, fingers digging excruciatingly into Dirk’s hip.

“ _Goodness_ , darling,” Dirk murmured before he even realized what he was saying.

“Oh no,” Todd panted, laughing exhaustedly into the pillow next to Dirk’s ear, “that's hot.”

“I’m glad we’ve established that you find me hot,” Dirk said, nuzzling Todd’s damp cheek.

That seemed to give Todd pause. He didn't speak for about half a minute before lifting his head.

“How could I not,” he said, with the same vulnerable trepidation as earlier. “I’ve been falling for you ever since this—since _we_ started. I was mad as shit about it. No—I was scared, maybe.”

Dirk nodded slowly, kissing the corner of Todd’s mouth this time, aiming for tender reassurance.

“I was afraid I’d scare you if I said that first,” he sighed. “Easier to say I wanted you. In case.”

Todd frowned at him, turning his head so that he could kiss Dirk properly. “In case of what?”

“In case you didn’t love me,” Dirk breathed, ashamed at the fragility of his faith, “or care—”

Todd kissed the words right back into his mouth, and, like earlier, that was the part that mattered.


	2. Cuddle It Out

Todd wasn’t fully awake, but he was aware enough to know he was on his side with an arm and a leg draped across Dirk. He’d never had the issue some people had with forgetting the events of a previous evening, and he’d never been more relieved.

Dirk lay on his left side, facing Todd, his injured right arm folded protectively against his chest. He looked so peaceful that Todd almost couldn’t believe he’d been under immense levels of stress as recently as dinnertime the previous day.

In the fragile sliver of light spilling between Amanda’s curtains, Todd brushed Dirk’s cheek, and then trailed his hand down to curl with Dirk’s against his chest. Dirk’s heartbeat felt calm.

Dirk stirred at that, eyebrows pinching together so endearingly that Todd couldn’t resist scooting closer. He clutched Todd’s hand on reflex, opening his eyes in hazy wonder.

“Oh God,” he said, pulse rising beneath their knuckles in subtle panic. “This is really happening.”

“Um,” Todd said, leaning in to kiss him softly, “yeah. I hope it is? I mean, if—if you didn’t—”

Dirk surged forward, his mouth opening against Todd’s with what sounded like a swallowed sob.

“ _Shhh_ ,” Todd whispered, awkwardly disengaging after a moment. “Dirk, are you okay?”

Wide-eyed in the dimness of the room, Dirk shook his head against the pillow. “Dreaming.”

“You’re not,” Todd soothed, caressing Dirk’s cheek again. “And if you are, then I am, too.”

Dirk opened his mouth on a fretful inhalation, and then pursed his lips. He closed his eyes and let his head drop to Todd’s shoulder instead, curling into him with a shuddering sigh.

“You didn’t say no,” he concluded finally, nuzzling Todd’s collarbone with restrained desire.

“Dirk, if you hadn’t noticed, it might _kinda_ be my fault we ended up here,” Todd said.

“No, this isn’t on you,” Dirk said resolutely, pressing his cheek against Todd’s skin. “It’s…”

At a loss, anxious that Dirk might be having second thoughts and not want to admit it, Todd tilted Dirk’s chin up and kissed him again. He hated himself for such unabashed neediness.

“Tell me what you’re thinking right now,” he panted, clinging as desperately to Dirk as Dirk was clinging to him. “This isn’t going any further until I know what’s going on in that head of yours, do you understand? I could ruin everything for us a second time if I keep trying to guess. This is bullshit, Dirk—by which I mean mostly me, but I think you get the idea.”

“I really want to have sex with you again,” Dirk said, as if ashamed. “Like, I mean really _really_ —like, I mean so much that I hope your sister has a condom in that drawer,” he went on helplessly, and then made the sound that was usually accompanied by an exclamation of _Stupid Dirk!_ “But if we don’t talk about this, I’m literally going to cry.”

“C’mon,” Todd coaxed, kissing Dirk’s forehead. “We can talk about anything you want.”

Dirk nodded reticently, scooting forward so that he was settled more securely against Todd.

“Returning to the whole discussion of adulting,” he said, sliding his right arm around Todd’s waist, flinching slightly at the pain it cost him, “I’m kind of afraid we’ve substituted kisses and orgasms for what we actually mean. And as much as I’m _so_ totally onboard with both of those things from you, I want actual words, Todd. Because those matter.”

Todd considered this for a moment, rubbing between Dirk’s shoulder blades. He was tense.

“I guess saying I’ve been falling for you was a shitty way of putting it last night,” he agreed.

“But _no_ ,” Dirk said contrarily. “It was a start. It was…shitty of me to insist on fooling around.”

“I couldn’t have refused you if I’d tried,” said Todd, squeezing him reassuringly. “Dirk, I’m—”

“This has gone so, _so_ pear-shaped you’d be smart to kick me out of bed this instant.”

“Fuck, would you just let me clarify this?” Todd asked incredulously. “I’m in love with you.”

“Amanda kept teasing you about Farah,” said Dirk, with anguish, hiding his face in Todd’s neck.

“Amanda’s been trying to play matchmaker with me since I was in college,” Todd sighed, mesmerized at how soft Dirk’s sleep-mussed hair felt between his fingers. “Regular Yente.”

“I sincerely doubt your sister would appreciate being reduced to a stereotype,” Dirk protested.

“And Farah, wow, did I tell you about this?” Todd went on, determined to keep stroking Dirk’s hair if it continued to relax him. “While you were trying to climb the Ridgely power shed’s fence, Farah asked me how long you and I had been together.”

Dirk made a quiet, pleased sound, but whether it was a result of Todd experimentally scratching Dirk’s scalp or what he’d just confessed, it was difficult to tell. He tightened his hold on Todd and winced, probably because the strain went straight to his shoulder.

“Maybe I wasn’t paying attention because I was trying to get you grope me under false pretenses,” he admitted after a moment of contented silence. “Are you quite sure she didn’t mean how long we’d been working together?”

“She said she thought it had been years,” Todd reassured him. He decided that, since they’d slept together, it wouldn’t be creepy to bury his nose in Dirk’s hair and inhale.

“Why’d you have to do that _now_?” Dirk moaned unhappily. “I smell like a hospital.”

“You smell like you,” Todd said fondly, scratching down through the clipped hair at Dirk’s nape, “and like that pie from the diner. Okay, maybe a _little_ like hospital, but who cares?”

“As long as you don’t,” Dirk sighed, going slack in Todd’s embrace. “Never stop touching me, please,” he begged. “All I’ve wanted from the moment I met you was this.”

“Which part?” Todd asked, tentatively beginning to massage the back of Dirk’s neck.

“Your arms around me,” Dirk said. “Maybe more if I was lucky, but definitely that.”

 _God_ , Todd thought, in a moment of terrified clarity, _he’s too sweet to deserve any of this._

“If you’re having one of those tortured self-pity parties, stop,” Dirk whispered. “I love you.”

“I was thinking about what a horrible person I’ve been,” Todd said, awed at Dirk’s conviction.

“I don’t _care_ ,” Dirk said, sounding close to tears. “You got better, and if you’re still a mess, well, didn’t you say I was one, too? We are mutual messes. A joint mess, if you like, although that sounds more like a description of Amanda’s rolling capabilities.”

“I’m gonna tell her you said that,” Todd teased, bumping his nose against Dirk’s cheek. “Hey.”

“ _What_ ,” Dirk murmured petulantly, squirming so that Todd would notice how hard he was.

“I love you, too,” Todd said, deciding repetition was crucial, “but anything complicated enough to involve a condom is out of the picture until your shoulder’s healed, okay?”

If Dirk hadn’t thoroughly melted before, he was so pliant in Todd’s arms it was breathtaking.

“I knew you didn’t mean it,” he sighed. “That awful stuff you said on the dock was ludicrous.”

Todd wedged his knee between Dirk’s legs, rubbing against him. “I only thought that I did.”

Dirk moaned and canted his hips, eagerly matching the rhythm Todd had set. “Shame on you.”

“Not my thing, but I’ll take it under the circumstances,” Todd teased, shifting against Dirk until they were in better alignment. “ _Fuck_ , that’s good.”

“I hope Farah forgets about us,” Dirk gasped, kissing Todd sloppily. “I want, shit, I _want_ …”

“You can say what you want,” Todd blurted, as out of control as Dirk and blissfully fine with it.

“This is _so_ embarrassing,” said Dirk, breathy and earnest, “but honest-you is really hot.”

If Dirk’s anxiety was that sex was boring, Todd hoped that _quick_ didn’t equate to the same. His body tensed at the thrill of Dirk’s words—climax like a shockwave, instantaneous.

Dirk stopped moving, trembling as Todd cried out, stifling a telltale whimper in Todd’s hair.

“Could, like, do this all day,” Todd gasped weakly, shivering into him loose-limbed and sticky.

“Should’ve stolen a thing,” Dirk slurred after a minute or so, “from work. Hangy-sign whatsit.”

Todd kissed him slow and lazy for the sentiment, but the hotel was the last thing he wanted to think about. He hadn’t heard his phone go off, but there was a chance it was on silent.

“Let me up long enough to get the phone and Kleenex,” Todd said, “I’ll tell Farah to hold off.”

“I was going to suggest we get in the shower without clothes this time,” Dirk replied. “No wearing the curtain back to bed, though, because I did _not_ find that sexy.”

Todd smacked him, more of a tap, not in the mood to remember that particular situation, either.

“ _Hmmm_ ,” said Dirk, reaching back to trap Todd’s hand against his ass. “Has potential.”

“Okay, now you’re pissing me off,” Todd warned halfheartedly, but all he could do was smile.


	3. Stand Your Ground

Dirk closed his eyes while Todd yanked up the edges of his bandages, front and back. He hazily recalled the explanation they’d given him, something about subcutaneous stitches that would dissolve, plus that glue-stuff on the surface.

“I don’t think you have to re-bandage,” said Todd, and, with one last yank, both masses of tape and gauze were gone. He pressed his lips against Dirk’s collarbone, comforting, not far from the first arrow’s point of impact. “Mom had surgery with sutures like this.”

“Then you know more about aftercare than I do,” Dirk sighed, opening his eyes, catching Todd around the waist so he wouldn’t step away just yet. “Everything was foggy when they explained it, sort of like I was listening through cotton wool stuck in my ears?”

“You need to take the course of antibiotics they sent home with you,” Todd said, squeezing Dirk briefly before releasing him so he could turn start the water. “Just a precaution.”

“You need to see about getting a prescription in your name once Amanda’s remnants run out,” Dirk said, shrieking when the cold spray hit his back. “Not _on_ , Todd!”

“It gets hot quicker than mine,” Todd said, grabbing a shampoo bottle off the caddy. “Sit down.”

Dirk couldn’t recall if anyone except his mother had ever washed his hair for him, and that memory was so distant as to seem unreal. Todd’s touch was just as wonderful in this context as in bed, and Dirk reveled in it.

Once Todd was finished, he started on himself, so Dirk twisted around, shifted onto his knees, and decided he’d have to do something nice for Todd in return. He’d been thwarted before.

Todd just blinked down at him, but not because the rinsing process had gotten suds in his eyes.

“Oh _jeez_ ,” he said, breathless as Dirk nuzzled his half-hard cock. “Can’t it wait?”

“You must be the only boyfriend in existence who’s trying to _avoid_ getting sucked off,” Dirk said, blinking up at Todd until he felt Todd’s knees wobble beneath his fingers, which he’d curled around to stroke at the sensitive backs. “Don’t you want this?”

“Dirk,” Todd said, cupping Dirk’s face in his slippery-wet hands, “ _yes_ , but not while…look, you get stressed easily right now, and I don’t…”

“Let me look at you,” Dirk insisted, touched at Todd’s concern. He released Todd’s legs so he could draw back just enough to take Todd’s pretty, flushed erection in both hands.

“Not that impressive by, um,” Todd panted, fingers sliding into Dirk’s hair, “popular standards.”

“Doesn’t have to be,” Dirk said, glancing up at Todd through his lashes, touching his lips to the head. “The more I can fit in my mouth, the better.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Todd hissed, his exhalation breaking on a moan as Dirk curiously sucked the tip of him.

Dirk took Todd deep, swallowing around him before pulling off. Part of his brain was anxious about not being able to breathe, it turned out, so he went back to just licking and suckling while his hands picked up the slack. Satisfyingly, Todd’s inarticulate whimpering escalated in pitch.

Todd scrabbled ineffectually at Dirk’s shoulders, so Dirk guided Todd’s fingers into his hair.

“I’m, fuck, _Dirk_ ,” he begged, tugging at it with shocking gentleness. “I’m so close.”

Dirk let Todd slip from between his lips, stroking with renewed fervor. “Good,” he whispered.

Todd wavered slightly on his feet as he came, so Dirk caught him around the hips. He looked stunning like this, soapy and utterly wrecked, a feast for Dirk’s disbelieving eyes.

“I have no idea why porn is a thing when there’s _this_ ,” Dirk said, kissing Todd’s belly as the spray sluiced away his mess. “You’re amazing.”

Todd made a dismayed, grateful sound low in his throat, clutching urgently at Dirk’s shoulders.

“Unlike you, I really will fall over,” Dirk said, finally allowing that he needed Todd to reciprocate. He sat back down, tipping backwards against the slick tub. “Todd…”

“This is a bad angle,” Todd said, but he got down on his knees between Dirk’s spread thighs and took Dirk’s cock in his hand, stroking him to perfection. “I can’t blow you.”

“Don’t, _ah_ , want you to,” Dirk gasped, pulling Todd close for a steam-cocooned kiss.

“At all?” Todd asked, sounding worried, his hand faltering between them. “Or not in here?”

“The latter,” Dirk gasped, straining against Todd as release washed over him. “ _Shit_!”

“Hey,” Todd murmured, kissing Dirk’s cheek adoringly while he recovered. “How’s that?”

“But _later_ ,” Dirk said after a few minutes’ dazed basking, “definitely. Yes. Want.”

Todd grinned at him, rocking back on his haunches, snagging the washcloth. He mopped at Dirk’s belly, and then made a thorough job of scrubbing every part of Dirk that he could reach.

“We’re gonna hurt today, but it makes clean-up easy,” Todd said, helping Dirk into a sitting position once he’d finished. He stood up and did a perfunctory number on himself, fingers finding the back of Dirk’s head when Dirk leaned in and rested against Todd’s hip.

“You are not only amazing, but extremely talented at absolutely _everything_ ,” Dirk mumbled soppily into the softness of Todd’s abdomen, “which means I have no choice but to promote you again. Partner has so many pleasing connotations at this stage.”

“That’s what Amanda called me when she told me off before she left,” Todd said, turning off the water. “Bad-ass partner to a psychic detective.”

“Not psychic,” Dirk protested, but he was too high on endorphins to put up much resistance.

“She probably knew this was going to happen,” Todd said after an ominous pause. “Goddamn it. She _did_ get to make me a match, the sneaky—”

“I can understand why hedged her bets between Farah and myself,” Dirk cut in. “We’re both prime significant-other material, albeit hopelessly neurotic in two different flavors.”

“It’s noon,” Todd said, taking hold of Dirk’s elbows, helping him up. “We haven’t eaten. You sound like you’re running on empty.”

“After what you just did to me? Almost certainly,” Dirk said, swaying into him with a giggle.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Todd sighed, helping Dirk step onto the mat. “Cute, but embarrassing.”

“Fine,” Dirk said, yanking the nearest towel off the rack, wrapping Todd in it. “I may be cute, but _you’re_ adorable. I’ll put it to a vote with Farah and your sister if I must.”

Todd’s expression went from fondly indignant to troubled. “About Amanda, listen—I’m afraid.”

“Something was very wrong, Todd,” Dirk said softly, drying him down. “The moment in which you had your first attack, it wasn’t coincidence. When Amanda called you, did she…”

Todd looked so stricken that Dirk opted to let the remainder of that thought die on his tongue.

“She was winded,” he said haltingly. “Like she’d been running, and she—she was screaming.”

The memory of Farah’s hand closing urgently around Dirk’s wrist hit Dirk square in the chest.

“Being chased, more like,” he whispered, aghast. “Of all the—Todd, they’re _hunting_ us.”

“I’m gonna guess _they_ means Blackwing,” Todd said warily, “or some other agency?”

At that moment, Todd’s phone went off on the counter, startling them into a fretful embrace.

Dirk reached around Todd and snatched it, swiping twice with his damp thumb before answering it successfully. “Hello?” he asked, putting the call on speaker. “Farah? We’re awake.”

“You guys need to get your clothes on, or your shit together, or both,” Farah said without preamble, sounding short of breath. “Guess who made the FBI’s Most Wanted list?”

“Gosh,” Dirk said, clapping a hand over Todd’s mouth before he could start shouting. “Let me guess,” he went on, attempting to remain calm, “we comprise four out of ten?”

“I’m there, so are the Brotzmans,” Farah said, “but the name under your photo isn’t…yours?”

Todd licked Dirk’s palm so he’d let go, and then said plaintively, “What the actual fuck?”

“Not mine _anymore_ ,” Dirk corrected, slouching so he could let his head rest heavily on Todd’s shoulder. He felt dizzy, disoriented, and unwell. “That’s what I was called when Blackwing took me. That boy, that young man—he might as well have died in custody.”

“Listen to me,” Farah said urgently. “Pack everything in the house that Todd needs, and everything else we might find useful. I’ll be there in half an hour to pick you up. After that, we’ll swing by your place and grab what you need from there. We’ve gotta run.”

“Oh my God,” Todd said, watching the call end as Dirk tossed the phone back on the counter.

“Shit,” said Dirk, disengaging from him, letting the towel fall as he stepped back into the bedroom and cast about for every item of clothing he could find. “We’re fugitives now, and it’s entirely my fault. Swell. Try to claim you aren’t having second thoughts now about your choice of bedfellows,” he went on miserably, stumbling into his underwear. “What did I call your previous line of thinking? Ludicrous? More like—”

Todd yanked him around so forcefully that they both collapsed onto the bed, damp and clinging.

“Jesus!” he shouted, shaking Dirk where they lay side by side. “Would you just _listen_?”

Dirk swallowed, but he couldn’t help groaning at the stab in his shoulder. “Fine, just—I am!”

“If you think this is enough to make me leave you, Dirk,” Todd said indignantly, “guess again.”

“I can’t possibly deserve you,” Dirk said quietly, brushing Todd’s cheek. “Or Farah, come to it.”

Todd kissed him fast and frantic, pressing their foreheads together. “I exist to love you, got it?”

Through the sudden sting of tears, Dirk could only nod and try to suppress a hiccupping sob.

“And Farah exists to protect you,” Todd added, “so how about we do what she’s asking, huh?”

Dirk nodded, numb and grateful, returning Todd’s sentiment with a rushed kiss of his own.

They were scarcely put together when Farah arrived. He supposed it might have been worse, what with Todd having dressed in the same clothes as yesterday so that Dirk wouldn’t feel alone in having no choice until they fetched fresh ones from his flat. It suddenly dawned on him that this would be a properly epic road trip, and that was exhilarating.

Todd was an extreme, hands-on kind of affectionate while they helped Farah pack the car. Judging from her get-your-clothes-on remark over the phone, she understood exactly what they’d done, but it was nice of Todd to be demonstrative in order to spare them explaining.

“Hey,” Farah said, giving Dirk a restrained, yet genuine smile once Todd had gone back inside to grab the last of what they’d packed. “I’m guessing you know what’s what now?”

Dirk experienced a moment of sheer befuddlement before remembering her question at the diner.

“Oh,” he blurted, chest flooding with abject relief. “Yes, very much. Emphatically so. Quite.”

Farah nodded, straightening Dirk’s lapels. “You know I’ll kick his ass if he hurts you, right?”

Todd came back with Amanda’s duffel and several plastic shopping bags. “Wait, hurts who?”

“Dirk,” Farah said, striding over to take half of his load. “If you break his heart, I’ll break you.”

Reaching for Todd, Dirk directed his most appealing expression at Farah. “He _so_ won’t.”

“That’s probably true,” Farah agreed, grinning at Todd this time, “but who was gonna give this guy the shovel talk if I didn’t? Amanda would’ve wanted me to do it.”

Todd stiffened as Dirk latched on and pulled him close. “Can we not talk about her like…”

“Amanda is alive,” Dirk replied with conviction, hugging him tightly. “Todd, I can feel it.”

“Thank God,” Farah whispered, falling on them both with arms spread wide. “I’m sorry, I…”

For the first time, Dirk understood what it meant to feel secure in the midst of certain peril.

“You were right,” he said. “We don’t just belong to each other, we belong _here_.”

“Here is wherever we are,” Todd agreed, hugging Dirk and Farah in return, “so let’s go.”


	4. Keep a Cool Head

While Dirk haphazardly tore up his apartment in the process of packing, Todd focused on making sure Farah didn’t pace a rut into the kitchen floor. He managed to get her stationary against the counter, where she stood with her gun drawn and arms folded across her chest.

“Calm down,” Todd said, fetching the empty cup and saucer Dirk had been using to feed the kitten, dropping them in the sink. “If nobody’s grabbed us yet, they must have higher priorities.”

“Like the dangerous ones,” Farah muttered, wrinkling her nose as Todd ran some water into the pieces of china. “Amanda and her gang of—of, um, whatever those guys are.” She turned to face Todd while he washed his hands. “You’re willing to do Dirk’s dishes, but you didn’t even take the time to, I don’t know, maybe clean your sister’s place?”

“Number one, you hustled us out of there pretty damn fast,” Todd said irritably, drying his hands. “Number two, relax, I stripped the bed and put it all in the laundry room.”

“And the towels!” Dirk chimed in, tossing a chaotic armful of clothes on the sofa. “We aren’t _total_ heathens, Farah,” he went on, unzipping a duffel bag that didn’t look like it would hold even half of what he was proposing to take. “I left an IOU for the washing.”

Todd did his best to keep a straight face in response to Farah’s disapprovingly amused snort.

“Seriously, though,” she said once Dirk was distracted again, “how’s this…thing working out?”

Hoping she didn’t want lurid details, Todd shrugged. “Like everything else we get involved in,” he said, watching Dirk make a precarious attempt at getting everything to fit. “Strangely well.”

“I’m glad,” Farah said, “because the close quarters we’re gonna put up with for however long we’re on the road? Aren’t likely to be a picnic.”

“Sorry if this question is a bit pushy,” Dirk ventured, raising his voice, “but where are we going?”

“Anywhere you tell us to,” Todd replied, leaving Farah to tap her gun against her thigh in frustration. “Dirk,” he said, approaching the sofa warily, “that’s too many jackets.”

“It’s only the less egregious ones,” Dirk said, holding up the blue one Todd was already familiar with and a black one with rainbow stripes on the sleeves that he hadn’t seen before.

Todd took the blue one away from him and carried it back to the closet. “You can keep _one_.”

“As if you think we’re masters of disguise to begin with,” Dirk retorted. He put the black jacket on over his Mexican Funeral tee, which he hadn’t changed out of, and kept packing.

“There’s a thought,” Todd said, glancing at Farah, who’d wandered over to watch. “Maybe we should get some hair dye wherever we stop for the night. I always wanted to try black.”

Dirk snapped his head up, all efforts to zip the perilously overstuffed duffel bag forgotten.

“I think not,” he said. “That won’t make much difference, and it’ll wash you out besides.”

“What you should do is get some sunglasses,” Farah said, “and probably shave that scruff.”

“Fine,” Todd said, wrenching the sides of the bag together so Dirk could give zipping another go. “But Dirk should probably think about dyeing his, right? It’s distinctive.”

“I _double_ think not,” Dirk snapped, and then burst out in with an excited _hah_ when they got the bag shut. “As a male ginger—well, ginger _ish_ , really, I’m more of an auburn—my culture’s aesthetic prejudices suggest I ought to be ashamed, although the truth is I’m anything but?” He glanced apologetically at Farah, and then appealingly at Todd. “It’s just that—that I like the way you look at me,” he stammered, his voice quiet.

“Then it’s sunglasses for you, too,” Farah said curtly, heading for the door. “I’ll be in the hall.”

In the ensuing silence, Todd took a few steps closer to Dirk and took the duffel strap from him.

“Brits think there’s something wrong with redheaded guys?” Todd asked, shouldering the bag, shocked at how heavy it was. “What when they have more than anywhere except Ireland?”

Dirk nodded, catching hold of the strap, leaning forward ever so slightly. “I know, right?” he scoffed, seeming to lose his nerve, closing his eyes at the last second. “Insult to injury, especially if you consider that I’m not British. Not originally, at least.”

Todd kissed him before he could launch into any kind of narrative. “You don’t have to tell me.”

“Yeah, but I…” Dirk pressed his lips to Todd’s again, fretful and soft. “I want you to know.”

“Farah and I have a lot of driving to do,” Todd said, patting Dirk’s shoulders. “Tell us then.”

“I’m quite capable of contributing!” Dirk protested, following him to the door. “Remember?”

“I remember you almost getting us into a fatal accident any number of times,” Todd sighed.

Farah locked Dirk’s door before they left, having taken his keys at some point during the fuss. When she tried to hand the sparsely-populated ring back, Dirk said she had better hang onto it.

Shortly after one o’clock, they hit the road and grabbed combo meals from a nearby Wendy’s.

The drive-through server stared when Farah paid with a fifty-dollar bill.

“Feds froze my accounts this morning,” said Farah, around a mouthful of hamburger, frazzled as she got them back on the highway, “but not before I withdrew a hundred grand.”

Todd choked on his fries. “D’you mean to tell me there’s _that_ much cash in this car?”

“Minus about a hundred now, but yeah,” Farah said, shrugging, and turned on the blinker.

“You think of everything,” Dirk said admiringly, already halfway through obliterating his chicken nuggets. “Don’t let anybody tell you that massive paranoia’s not an asset.”

“Thanks, I _think_?” Farah said, shoving several fries in her mouth. “Okay, gotta focus.”

It was fortunate Farah had claimed the first driving shift, because Dirk was unwilling to be anywhere he couldn’t touch Todd. He wasted no time in nosing around the back, finding Farah’s expertly-compressed sleeping bag, and making a nest around them in the back seat.

When the pain in Dirk’s shoulder finally had him fidgeting, Todd made him take some oxycodone along with his antibiotics. The painkiller made Dirk almost childishly hyper at first, to the point he wouldn’t stop rambling about why heading south into Oregon was as good an idea as any. After twenty minutes of rattling off tacky tourist attractions, he curled up on the seat with his head in Todd’s lap and conked out.

While Todd ran his fingers idly over Dirk’s side beneath the sleeping bag, Farah chuckled.

“I never understood why Dad lived for the times Eddie and I finally shut up—until now.”

“You have to admit hat Harvey the Rabbit, Paul Bunyan, and the World’s Tallest Barber Pole sound awesome, though,” Todd said, squeezing Dirk’s hand as Dirk sleepily laced their fingers together. “Even if it wouldn’t be smart to stop.”

Farah sighed, tapping the steering wheel. “I guess this is the closest thing you’ll get to a honeymoon,” she said, her tone tinged with regret, “at least for now. Offer Dirk a rain check?”

Todd used his free hand to smooth down Dirk’s hair, remembering how that had soothed him.

“The first case was more than enough of one,” Todd replied, “except the part where we fought.”

Catching Todd’s eyes briefly in the rear-view mirror, Farah bit her lip and stared straight ahead.

“Do you realize,” she said slowly, “that the three of us have known each other barely a week?”

Dirk’s grasp tightened noticeably enough to suggest he might be dozing rather than sleeping.

“Today’s August twelfth,” Todd said. “I’ve known Dirk for ten days, you for eight. Why?”

“It’s not the sleeping together I’m worried about, or even the deciding you’re dating, or whatever it is,” Farah replied, so stern that Todd wondered what her father sounded like. “It’s that you look at him like you’ve already told him you love him. Have you?”

“Yeah, Farah,” Todd said, defensive in spite of understanding her concern. “I have, and I do.”

Farah inhaled sharply, shaking her head as if succumbing momentarily to that morning’s panic. 

“Please mean it,” she whispered, just loudly enough for Todd to hear. “Todd, the stuff I hacked into with my brother’s credentials, I found—listen, after the _shit_ Dirk’s been through—”

“If it helps, I love you as much as I’ve ever loved Amanda and my parents,” Todd said with conviction, brushing his thumb over the back of Dirk’s hand, certain by now that Dirk was listening. “You and Dirk are my family, okay? Maybe more than my _actual_ family.”

Farah had gone from shaking her head to nodding, and Todd was almost sure she was in tears.

“It’s like that with me and Lydia,” she said, voice taut. “God, it killed me to see her off, it…”

“We’ll get her back,” Todd said, letting his fingers slide free of Dirk’s hair, reaching forward to set his hand on Farah’s shoulder. “When this is all over, when our names are cleared, we’ll get the agency running and Lydia back home, and…”

Farah took her left hand off the wheel, covering Todd’s against her shoulder. “Don’t get ahead.”

Dirk sat up and snuggled crankily into Todd’s right shoulder, still clasping Todd’s right hand.

“I hate to be _that_ guy, but I need the loo,” he said. “Also, Farah? You’re my favorite.”

“Screw you,” Todd said, withdrawing his hand as Farah let go with a laugh. “I lost the title?”

“Being my partner means you’re my _favorite_ favorite, which is an exemption from your more standard varieties of favoritism,” Dirk scoffed, cuddling closer. “Keep up, Todd.”

“This got so cutesy I might puke,” Farah muttered, bearing toward the exit. “Rest stop it is.”

Farah’s figurative nausea aside, Dirk was legitimately sick in the parking lot as soon as they stopped and got out. An excess of antibiotics, opiates, and poor food choices would do it.

Todd got them to the bathroom and back without further incident, and Farah was already waiting for them at the car. She’d hit up the vending machines for several bottles each of Coke and ginger ale, which was about as awkward a dad-friend gesture as Todd had ever seen.

“Shush,” she said, pointing at Todd’s nose before sliding behind the wheel. “You okay, Dirk?”

“Everything’s kind of spinny,” he volunteered as Todd helped him get into the back, “but yes.”

Trooper that she was, Farah proceeded to keep them on the road for another seven and a half hours. Just shy of ten o’clock in the evening, they rolled wearily into Bend, Oregon.

The Red Lion Inn & Suites, Deschutes River, had a room with two double beds for ninety-five dollars. Even though it made Todd cringe, Farah handed over the cash without hesitation.

Once they’d settled in, Farah loudly announced that she had dibs on the shower for the next hour and thirty minutes _exactly_. Where Todd was too stiff to want anything complicated, Dirk was too woozy, but that didn’t stop them from stripping down and crawling under the covers.

“Premature assessment, maybe,” Dirk said after they’d kissed lazily for a while, “but I’m getting woe-is-me lonesome vibes from Farah. Until such time as this fugitive situation—or the next case, or both—resolve themselves into something coherent, I propose we focus on the obvious.”

Todd didn’t stop worrying at Dirk’s neck, because _not_ marking him was frustrating as hell. The last thing they needed was to draw attention to themselves with hickeys visible from space, what when Dirk’s big mouth and modus operandi were sufficient on their own.

“What’s that?” Todd asked, licking the spot he’d bitten. “Pull an Amanda? Play matchmaker on the run from disaster, in the middle of nowhere, while not knowing _anyone_?”

“Precisely,” Dirk replied, self-satisfied in a way that indicated he’d accepted the assignment.


	5. Try to Have Fun

Dirk woke well ahead of the six o’clock alarm Farah had set, content to watch Todd sleep. Even in near-complete darkness, his face—half-hidden in the pillow, an inch from Dirk’s nose—was as lovely as when Dirk had first set eyes on it.

When Dirk brushed a barely-there kiss against Todd’s jaw, Todd snuffled and scooted closer.

For starters, he did this thing that some people might classify as snoring, but wasn’t _really_. It was too decorous to be painted with any such brush, and Dirk was prepared to have a go at Farah if she so much as mentioned Todd’s sleep-noises.

Dirk took Todd’s drowsy shifting as an invitation to wrap an arm around him and nuzzle his neck.

“Asshole,” Todd whispered, lazily pressing a kiss against Dirk’s undershirt-covered chest. “How long have you been watching me?”

“About half an hour?” Dirk guessed, working his fingertips beneath Todd’s t-shirt so he could tease at his waistband. “You looked peaceful.”

“Whatever floats your boat,” Todd murmured, squirming when Dirk slid his hand down the back of his boxers. “ _Careful_. Farah’s right over there.”

“If you’d stop making such a big deal about it,” Dirk said, “there’s this neat thing called being quiet.”

“Us? Quiet?” Todd snorted, and then bit down on Dirk’s collarbone when Dirk palmed his ass. “That’s enough to make me laugh, which… _isn’t_ …”

“Oh, darling,” Dirk breathed, rocking into him with fervent insistence. “Shower with me?”

“Yeah,” Todd agreed, kissing Dirk quick and filthy before rolling away. “Privacy’s good.”

Showering together for the remainder of the road trip would, Dirk imagined, work out well for them. It afforded them the chance to do—well, _this_ , he thought deliriously, combing his shaking fingers through Todd’s wet hair while Todd sucked him under the hot spray—and also saved precious time in Farah’s view, since she preferred an early start.

Not to mention, getting his first blow job on the first morning of his first proper road trip felt like a rite of passage. Afterward, he pinned Todd to the tiled wall and jerked him to completion.

At breakfast, over bowls of cold cereal and burnt coffee and _wretched_ bagged tea, Farah gave no indication that the notion of them having it off troubled her. Quite the professional.

Probably because he felt guilty, Todd enthusiastically volunteered to take the next driving shift.

Continuing south, following Route 97 took them through Deschutes National Forest. Stunningly beautiful, all told, and Todd finally gave up on scolding Dirk for constantly snapping photos with his phone. Riding shotgun while Todd drove was preferable to contending with Farah’s mess of maps and charts in the back. He called it Command Central and got a scowl for his trouble.

Nagging Farah about the impending nearness of Crater Lake resulted in an emphatic _no_ , but nagging Todd yielded better results. Whether it had anything to do with a few naughty, whispered promises was beside the point. The scenery was stunning, although Todd succumbing to an attack in the woods was less than ideal. Even Farah, once they were reluctantly back on the road, wouldn’t shut up about Wizard Island.

They stopped for lunch in Klamath Falls, at a place called Black Bear Diner. After a full meal, Dirk ate all of his Grandma’s Famous Blackbeary Cobbler, as well as half of Todd’s, and got another stomachache. He slept it off with his head in Todd’s lap while Farah muttered up front.

Over the next several days, they made it well into Northern California—which was all fine and dandy for snogging Todd on a couple secluded beaches, at least until Farah thought she noticed a dark van tailing them off and on. _Idaho_ , Dirk insisted, eyes falling on the nearest map.

Before switching directions, Farah stole them a new car, switched the plates out for a set she’d been hiding in the glove box, and tossed the old ones off a picturesque cliff. She seemed sad to leave her car behind, but Dirk reassured her it was best for the case.

“What case?” Farah asked, regarding him in confusion. “Also, why aren’t you in the back?”

“I thought I’d try my hand at navigating for a while,” Dirk said, chewing his lip. “Something more interesting might happen? Ah, _right_. Interesting isn’t necessarily reassuring.”

While there had been a few interactions involving Farah and reasonably attractive servers and motel staff, she’d kept her head down and refused to talk extensively with anyone but Dirk and Todd. There was no denying the sadness in her, though, and Dirk couldn’t put his finger on it.

“Maybe I’m misreading the situation altogether,” Dirk said, fretfully flipping channels while Todd lay with his head in Dirk’s lap, recovering from a pararibulitis flare-up. “It’s useless.”

“Farah’s a private person, Dirk,” Todd said, his face buried pleasingly against Dirk’s hip. “She wouldn’t even let us come down and swim with her. I mean, she’s trying to give us space, new relationship and everything, but she’s never had to put up with something like this.”

“You mean something like _us_ ,” Dirk sighed glumly, turning off the television, tossing the clicker aside. “How are you feeling?”

“The pills space me out,” Todd admitted, his breath warm through the fabric of Dirk’s briefs. “They work, though. I’m lucky this is only the second attack since we’ve been on the road.”

Dirk blinked down at Todd as he rolled onto his back, seized with sudden and consuming doubt.

“There is nothing lucky about this,” he said quietly, framing Todd’s face. “Wish I knew why.”

Todd shrugged, unfussed, covering Dirk’s hands with his own. “I deserve it, remember?”

“I don’t care what you think you deserve,” said Dirk, angrily. “None of us deserve—” he gestured at the shabby motel room that was their present surroundings “— _this_!”

“As long as we’re on that list,” Todd said, squeezing Dirk’s hands, “we have to keep moving.”

“I know,” Dirk replied hopelessly, fighting off tears, but to no avail. “I want you to be safe, and this is anything _but_ safe. Your attack was a bad one, Todd. Worse than the first two.”

Shrugging, Todd sat up and wobbled into Dirk’s side, sliding an arm around him. “Hey, _shhh_.”

“I’m the one who should be comforting you!” Dirk sobbed, snatching the nearest pillow so he could hide his face. “But there’s sod-all I can do when you’re convinced of glass shards stuck everywhere in your skin, or a noose tightening around your neck, or—”

“As long as I don’t get Amanda’s drowning-on-dry-land special, I’ll be fine,” Todd said, yanking away the pillow, wiping Dirk’s eyes with the edge of the sheet. “Really.”

“I want you to be better than fine,” Dirk said, sniffling in despair as Todd leaned in to kiss him.

“Know what’s better than fine?” Todd asked, lingering over it as he shifted to straddle Dirk.

“Farah’s been gone forty-five minutes,” Dirk mumbled, fretting at him. “She’ll be back soon.”

“So we have fifteen or twenty more minutes,” Todd said, impossibly cheerful considering what he’d been through not half an hour before. “Don’t tell me we need longer.”

Too desperately craving closeness, and too eager to give Todd what he needed besides, Dirk let Todd strip them out of their pajamas and roll him under the covers. Out of necessity, none of their lovemaking thus far had been unhurried, but this time felt almost leisurely.

Dirk never wanted to forget this first, either: how it felt to come within a second of Todd falling.

They were only half-dressed and nearly asleep when Farah came back, but she tactfully dimmed the lights and turned on the television before going to shower. She even winked.

“I was bloody wrong,” Dirk lamented, flopping against Todd’s chest. “Romantically speaking, Farah’s doing just fine. And here we are in—where the hell is this again? Oh, right, a town _literally_ called Dickshooter—barking up the wrong tree. We’re on our second stolen car, running out of fake IDs, _and_ the stress of this nonsense is making you sicker.”

“Look on the bright side,” Todd yawned, hugging Dirk tightly. “Rural America is ridiculous.”

“No kidding,” Dirk groused. “Twenty miles southeast of here, there’s a town called Riddle.”

“We could make it our next stop,” Todd said, suddenly electrified. “With a name like that, I mean—Dirk, who knows? What if the universe is taking us there for a reason?”

“That would be a bit heavy-handed even for the universe, Todd,” Dirk sighed, patting Todd's hip.

Farah came out of the bathroom just then, barefoot in a sports bra and sleep shorts. It was a real testament to how comfortable they’d grown with each other that nobody blinked.

“Let me guess,” she yawned, dropping her towel on the floor as she made her way to the second bed. “We’re discussing how fitting it is that this place is called Dickshooter?”

“We were talking about the next town over,” Todd volunteered. “Riddle. Sounds like a clue, right?”

“Sounds like something…Batman, I don’t know,” said Farah, and fell face-down on the mattress.

“Brilliant,” Dirk muttered, rolling away from Todd in self-disgust. “We’ve driven Farah insane.”

“If I don’t get to have self-pity parties about what a shitty person I used to be,” Todd said warningly, “then you don’t get to have them about leading us on what might be a wild goose-chase. There’s a madness to your method, Dirk—and it works.”

“Oh my _God_ ,” Farah moaned into her duvet. “If you don’t shut up, I’m gonna let Dirk drive.”

“Go screw yourself,” Todd said, directing an aimless middle finger at Farah’s side of the room.

“ _Can_ I drive?” Dirk asked eagerly, lifting his head to squint over at her. “Pretty please?”

“No,” Farah admitted, her voice tinged with laughter, “but I needed to find a suitable threat.”

“In that case,” Dirk sighed, tugging at Todd’s arm so Todd would spoon him, “fuck right off.”

The next morning, Dirk woke to brighter sunlight than usual and an already-dressed Todd poking him in the foot with one arm of his sunglasses. He gave Dirk an apologetic look, as if anticipating that he'd be in trouble.

“Didn’t have the heart to wake you. Farah said I could let you sleep till I was done showering.”

“Nicely done, Todd,” Dirk grumped, swinging his legs out of bed. “Look at the intimacy-filled alone time we’re _not_ having.”

“Rude,” Todd said, catching Dirk from behind, arms tight around Dirk’s waist. “Go shower.”

Dirk grudgingly let himself be spun around into a kiss, after which he went to rummage in his duffel bag and pulled out a clean set of clothes. His jacket didn’t look great with this particular shirt and trousers, but it hardly mattered given that he’d be shoving his disheveled hair under a grey-toned camouflage beanie that Todd had bought him at the last tacky tourist trap.

“I can’t believe you’re willing to be caught in that,” Todd said, helping him pack for departure.

“We’re in the middle of nowhere,” Dirk said tetchily, “and nobody’s looking but you, so…”

“C’mon,” Todd said, cajoling him with another kiss. “Farah’s downstairs. There’s breakfast.”

“I am so tired of substandard tea that I would risk foraging for my own,” Dirk grumbled, making a grab for his duffel bag, but Todd got to it first. “My shoulder’s much better, you know.”

“Dirk, I love you, but seriously,” Todd said, leading the way, one duffel in each hand, “shut up.”

It was difficult to stay sour when Todd insisted on making up Dirk’s breakfast for him, and just the way Dirk liked it, too. Or, rather, just the way he liked what passed for breakfast on the run.

Riddle, as it turned out, was not a town. The internet called it an _unincorporated community_ , which must mean _a few farms and bugger-all else_.

Dirk got bored with the scenery, which was an expanse of nothing, and pulled the brochures he’d grabbed in the motel lobby that morning out of his pocket. He shuffled through them.

“Speaking of unfortunate town names, take a look at this,” he said to Todd, who was at the wheel, and then leaned to include Farah. “There’s a place in Montana called Bergsberg, and its claim to fame is a rusty old boat in the middle of a field. Nobody knows how it got there.”

“Sorry, but did you say _Bergsberg_?” Farah asked, sharply looking up from her phone.

“Yes, Farah, I did,” Dirk confirmed, handing her the dusty, sun-faded pamphlet. “Why?”

Todd looked away from the empty road, glancing anxiously over at Dirk. “What’s wrong?”

“Because,” Farah replied, “that boat is exactly where my brother Eddie’s asking to meet us.”


	6. Hope For the Best

The Lost River Motel in Arco, Idaho was garishly painted inside and out. Todd kept a straight face as Farah wondered aloud if its owner had the decoration equivalent of Dirk’s taste in jackets.

“Two singles,” said the weary-looking woman at the desk. “Forty each. That’s all I have.”

“We can all fit in a single,” Todd insisted, giving Farah a hard look. “It’ll be more economical.”

Farah sighed, shaking her head, ready to give in. “Fine,” she said. “Guess I’ll take the floor.”

“Maximum occupancy’s two per single,” said the proprietress. “Sorry, you’d have to take both.”

Dirk tugged at Todd’s wrist, hardly subtle. “We’ll be perfectly safe,” he said. “The doors lock.”

“Fine,” Farah said, sliding two fifty-dollar bills across the desk. “It’ll be nice to have a break.”

“A break from us?” Todd asked, trying to lighten the mood while the woman checked them in.

“You snore,” Farah replied pointedly, spreading her hands in exasperation. “I need sleep!”

Dirk stood there looking twitchy for a few seconds before blurting, “He does _not_.”

“Great,” Todd said, holding Dirk back from whatever irritable tirade he’d been about to launch into. “All the more reason for _us_ to share,” he continued, placating the confused proprietress.

“The red doors,” she said, handing Farah the receipt and both keys. “Side by side, here in front.”

Farah passed Todd one of the keys at random before walking off, and said, “Get him to chill.”

“Not very feasible,” said Dirk, petulantly, following her and Todd outside, “given the hat.”

They unloaded the car and retired to their respective rooms in silence, which might have worried Todd if Farah’s outburst hadn’t clearly been fatigue-related. He ushered Dirk inside.

“This is charming,” Dirk said, sitting down on the edge of the floral patchwork quilt-covered bed while Todd set aside their bags. “Look at these pillowcases, Todd—butterflies!”

“Kitsch isn’t strong enough for the energy this place gives off,” Todd said. He sat down beside Dirk, removed his shoes and socks, and watched Dirk do the same. “Amanda would love it.”

“Let it be known I quite approve of your sister’s taste,” Dirk said, wiggling his toes against the close-cropped carpet. “Well, here we are again.”

Todd was learning Dirk’s subtle cues, which usually manifested in the form of call-backs to earlier conversations. Theme and variations this time, but Todd knew his line.

“Where?” he asked, reaching to tug the beanie off Dirk’s head. “Maybe don’t look in a mirror.”

“Try stuffing _your_ hair under unforgiving cotton for ten hours,” Dirk griped, but he closed his eyes and sighed as Todd massaged Dirk’s scalp. “Oh, that’s nice.”

“You need to relax,” Todd said, brushing a kiss against Dirk’s lips while he worked. “Farah’s high-strung enough for all three of us, and your nerves are getting to her.”

“The closer we get to this case,” Dirk said quietly, “the higher my chances of losing you.”

“It won’t be like last time,” Todd insisted, smoothing Dirk’s hair. “We’ll stick together.”

“We mostly stuck together last time, and look what happened,” Dirk said. “We almost died.”

They were forehead to forehead now, trading not-quite-kisses that made Todd’s skin prickle.

“Some honeymoon,” he sighed. “Amanda’s bed, and now redneck central. I’ll owe you one.”

Dirk sucked in his breath, eyes distractingly bright at close range, and gave Todd a bruising kiss.

“This may be our last night alone for the foreseeable,” he panted when they finally drew apart. “If this creepy-dollhouse, middle-of-nowhere dive is what I’ve got to work with, I’ll take it.”

“Dirk, calm down,” Todd said, but there was no denying his desperation. “There’s no rush.”

Dirk shook his head with a short, wistful laugh, as if Todd had missed the point. He crawled across the bed until he could hang over the opposite edge and dig around in his bag.

“If you try to tell me I’m in too much pain for this, so help me,” Dirk said, rolling into the middle of the bed with whatever he’d retrieved, “I won’t do that thing you like for a month.”

The lubricant from Amanda’s was no surprise, but the pack of polyurethane condoms _was_.

“That description applies to, like, several things you’ve done,” Todd said. “Where’d you get—”

“The truck stop,” Dirk said, sitting up cross-legged, offering the items. “You didn’t think I was in the toilet that whole time, did you? Honestly, Todd. Your naïveté floors me sometimes.”

Sighing, Todd took them and set them aside on the pillows. “Have you even done this before?”

“No?” Dirk said calmly, shrugging. “Not with anyone. I’ve never done anything, not until you.”

Todd rubbed his cheek in disbelief, reaching for Dirk’s hand. “I haven’t really done this, either. Not the way you’re asking, so…”

Dirk picked at his tie, eyeing Todd with candid warmth. “You can have this— _er_ , well. Me.”

Todd leaned forward and undid it for him, so hopelessly smitten it that made his head spin.

“I’ve at least…tried stuff, I mean…” Todd lowered his eyes, letting Dirk’s tie dangle, starting on Dirk’s shirt buttons. “On myself, so…” He finished the job and ran his hands over Dirk’s chest, reveling in Dirk’s rapid heartbeat. “You can have _me_.”

“Oh, can I,” Dirk whispered, hushed and disbelieving, his fingers creeping to Todd’s waistband.

Todd let Dirk strip him and pin him to the bed, thrilled to let Dirk take control for as long as he wanted. He shivered to watch Dirk ease off to finish undressing himself, mesmerized by the contours of his body in the low, harsh light.

Dirk shed his shirt last, wincing as he shrugged out of it. He turned and pressed Todd into the pillows before Todd could sit up to help him, all fever-hot skin and eager breath.

“Hi,” Todd said, aware that at least one of their supplies was now between the mattress and the wall, bringing his hand up to touch Dirk’s shoulder. “How does it feel?”

“Not great,” Dirk said with hesitation, nuzzling Todd’s cheek, “but it’s secondary to—”

“No, it _isn’t_ ,” Todd insisted, but a split second-later it was tricky to say much else.

Coaxing Dirk onto his back was difficult when Dirk refused to stop kissing him, but Todd got him there. Whatever intentions Todd might have had toward attempting to ride him dissipated, owing to both the condoms having slipped behind the bed _and_ Dirk’s fretful refusal to let Todd stray much further than making a grab for the lube before it fell, too.

“Sorry,” Dirk gasped, head falling back in startled delight when Todd kissed his neck. “I just…”

“You’re tired,” Todd said softly, shifting a little to one side before bracing the tube against Dirk’s belly in order to snap it open. “And I just want to hold you, too. So.”

“So?” Dirk echoed, breathy and flushed to such a degree that Todd almost forgot what he was doing. “You’re going to…to do _what_ , exactly?”

“Get you off,” Todd said, trying for teasingly nonchalant as he wrapped his slick hand around Dirk’s cock, but however he sounded was enough to elicit an impulsive response.

Dirk whimpered, twisting onto his side. He yanked Todd’s hand around to his ass even as they pressed flush, making sure it stayed there before winding his arm around Todd’s waist.

“Won’t take much,” Dirk hissed, meeting Todd’s lazy thrust, “and I don’t bloody _care_.”

Todd kissed him hungrily, grateful that he hadn’t forced Dirk onto his injured side. He’d never really gotten to do this, never just unselfconsciously let himself abandon expectations. Every moment with Dirk—fierce and trembling in his arms, _trusting_ —was miraculous.

“You,” Dirk sighed, scarcely recovered, resting heavy and content against Todd, “are worth it.”

“Worth what?” Todd asked, still shivering into Dirk with each sudden, satisfying aftershock.

“Pulling a stitch or two,” Dirk said with chagrin, glancing sidelong at his shoulder. “Possibly.”

Todd made an exasperated noise, knowing he’d need to clean them soon, but he was too content to move. “They’re under the skin and dissolving. Lemme check your glue.”

Once he was satisfied Dirk hadn’t done himself any visible damage, Todd kissed him until they were both half-lidded, hazy, and slightly annoyed at the mess. Clean-up didn’t take long, and Dirk was drowsing in minutes, his cheek plastered against Todd’s chest.

Wakeful for a while longer, Todd rubbed Dirk’s back and wondered what they’d face this time.

The next thing Todd knew, Farah was banging on the door and shouting that they had thirty minutes. He dragged Dirk to the shower, and then they packed in a rush.

“Four and a half hours to Bergsberg,” said Farah, sipping bad coffee from the motel lounge as she drove. “We can take our time, though. Eddie expects me at eight.”

“Don’t you mean he expects _us_?” Dirk ventured, raising his hand. He handed the shared coffee off to Todd, making a displeased face. “This is not my caffeine of choice.”

“Well, yeah, he knows you guys are with me,” Farah said tersely. “That’s part of his big issue.”

“Aha,” Todd replied, swallowing half of what was left. “He’ll try to convince you to ditch us.”

Farah thumped the steering wheel, shaking her head. “You know that’s not going to happen.”

“He’s scared as hell because we’re on the Most Wanted,” Farah sighed. “He didn’t even report me for hacking his shit. We owe him.”

“He helped us because you’re his sister,” Todd pointed out, “not because he expects payment.” 

Farah shook her head again. “There must be some family trouble, too. Something with Dad.”

Next to Todd, Dirk shivered and shrunk slightly against Todd’s side. “I’m sure it’s all fine.”

Todd shot him a glance, not really buying Dirk’s tone. “You sure about that?” he mouthed.

Dirk shook his head almost imperceptibly, apprehensive enough to make Todd’s heart sink.

Dealing with both Dirk and Farah sullen and scarcely speaking was one of the worst experiences of Todd’s life. Their breakfast and lunch stops were leisurely, but miserable affairs.

Even a brief stop at the American Computer and Robotics Museum in Bozeman brought Dirk no joy. They wandered in at six o’clock, and they left before seven. Bergsberg was close, and, if Dirk’s jitters were anything to go by, the case loomed even closer.

“Look!” Dirk said, in the first fit of excitement he’d shown all day, pointing. “Just ahead!”

In the foggy, falling dusk, Todd had to squint to interpret the rusty white shape ahead as a boat.

Once they’d parked and Farah was busy arguing with Eddie in the middle distance, Todd didn’t get far with his cuddle-Dirk-to-distraction plot. The telltale prickle in his skin sent him rummaging in his pullover for the single remaining bottle of medication.

“Todd, I understand perhaps this is a bad time,” Dirk said, “but there’s a police car behind us.” 

“Shit,” said Todd, shoving the bottle back in his pocket, waving at the half-open window. “Try to get Farah’s attention, or—go get her if you have to, I don’t care! I’ll handle the cop.”

Dirk leaned in and gave Todd a soft, questioning kiss. “Todd, are you sure you’re feeling…”

“ _Go_ ,” Todd ordered, reaching across Dirk to wrench the door open, hustling him out. “Shit,” he said again while Dirk dashed across the field, putting on his sunglasses.

“Step out of the car, please,” said the officer, over what sounded like screechy portable intercom.

Todd shoved the brass knuckles Farah had given him in his pocket and got out of the back seat, approaching the officer warily. The man was dressed more like a rural sheriff than a city cop.

“You look cool,” said the officer, painfully earnest, whose badge bore the name _HOBBS_.

Todd tried to parse what was happening, and instantly failed. “Okay?” he replied nervously.

“ _But_ —you can’t park here,” said Hobbs, apologetically. “State road. If you park here, I’ve gotta tow ya, which is to say—I am the tow-truck driver here in the county, along with being the sheriff. Also, I’m going to have to ask your friends out there…” He trailed off, squinted, and blinked back at Todd. “Would you mind taking those sunglasses off?”

Hobbs’s question was a moot point. Sudden, fearful buzzling and the repeated brushes of what felt like insects landing repeatedly on Todd’s skin sent his hands flying to his glasses anyway.

The sheriff’s flurry of words faded to background static as Todd, collapsing on the wet asphalt, coughed up the swarm of flies. He cried out for Dirk, for Farah, for Amanda— _anyone_.

He must have blacked out for a moment, because—when he next opened his eyes, fearfully gasping to recover his breath—he was half in Dirk’s lap with Dirk’s arms wrapped tightly around his chest. A few feet away from them, Farah was arguing with the sheriff.

“No,” Farah went on, in absolute fury. “We absolutely will not! You don’t even have grounds.”

“Gosh, I just like you guys so much,” said Hobbs, “but I’m afraid you’ll have to come with me.”


	7. Prepare For the Worst

Dirk shuddered awake, relieved to realize he wasn’t alone on the lower bunk. He hadn’t seen Mona Wilder in years, much less dreamed of her, yet the image burned into the backs of his eyelids was Mona bending over him.

Grinning madly, eyes aglow with eerie golden light, she had whispered,  _Find the boy_.

“Hey,” Todd murmured, arm tightening around Dirk as he spooned him closer. “You all right?”

Dirk shook his head against the pillow, tugging the thin, scratchy covers more firmly over them.

“I dreamed about one of the others I knew in Blackwing,” he replied. “Mona Wilder. She’s a shapeshifter, sort of. She wants us to find someone.”

“Wait,” Todd hissed back. “You mean to tell me prophetic visions are a thing you get, too?”

“Rarely,” Dirk huffed in exasperation, “and it’s not like they’re ever _useful_. In this dream, Mona told me to find some boy.”

Todd was undoubtedly pulling his best confused face. He tugged until Dirk rolled to face him.

“Find a boy?” Todd asked. “ _Any_ boy? Would she be glad to know you found me?”

“Well, she said find _the_ boy, which is oddly specific,” Dirk mused, finding Todd’s mouth warm and eager. “I think we have a case.”

“If it involves Blackwing,” Todd said pensively, “I really don’t like our chances of finding Amanda, or keeping you safe from those assholes.”

“This bed’s small and _really_ uncomfortable,” Dirk murmured, wedging his thigh between Todd’s, wiggling as close as he could, “but cozy.”

“Just one more stop on the honeymoon from hell,” Todd sighed. “Amanda’s bed, that eyesore motel quilt, and now a prison mattress.”

“I’d be down for it if we had a measure of privacy,” Dirk said, bumping his nose against Todd’s.

“We aren’t good at quiet,” Todd said, but he latched enthusiastically onto Dirk’s mouth anyway.

“Don’t even think about it,” said Farah, crankily, raising her voice from the cell across the way.

“Rise and shine, everybody!” said a second voice, unfamiliar enough to make Dirk’s pulse spike even though Todd stopped kissing him. “Oh _hey_ , am I, uh…interrupting something?”

“Actually, you kind of are,” Dirk sighed, patting Todd’s back as Todd cursed against his neck.

“Jesus,” Todd said, peering over Dirk’s shoulder to get a look at the intruder. “Do you mind?”

Farah groaned, and the rustling suggested to Dirk that she was pulling her covers over her head.

“Sorry, man—sorry!” said the slight woman in an officer’s uniform, Pop-Tart held up in defense, winking at Dirk. “I’d be all over that hot piece of action if I was you, too! But now that you guys are up, you wanna hang out?”

“What’s happening?” Todd asked, crawling over Dirk and off the bed. “Are we free to go?”

“I’m not exactly authorized to make that call,” said the officer. “We’re gonna have to wait till Hobbs gets here. All that bookin’ you guys in yesterday took a lot out of him. I didn’t get back from patrol till you guys were asleep. By the way, Brotzman, I _love_ your music from back in the day!”

“Good, um, call,” Dirk said, stumbling out of bed, dragging the covers with him. “Respect for chain of command,” he added, reaching for Todd.

“We’re never getting out of here,” Todd said dispiritedly, joining Dirk under his makeshift cape.

Just then, Hobbs came down the hall with several garish orange garments draped over his arm.

“We’re letting you guys outta here,” he said, nudging Tina aside, unlocking the cell door. “Yep. Now, it’s a little windy out there, folks, so I brought you some jackets. Besides, Dirk,” he went on, “you wouldn’t wanna wear that nice leather one where we’re going.”

“Wait, you’re taking us somewhere?” Todd asked warily, watching as Tina unlocked Farah’s cell.

“Well,” Hobbs said, “I got a call this morning about someone havin’ tampered with the gate down at this abandoned farmhouse the government locked down after the ’67—that’s what we call this massive electrical storm we had back then. Knocked out all the power. Seems somebody’s either gone in or come out. I was thinking about that stuff you told me yesterday, Dirk—seeing as how you were with the CIA and, uh, what was it again?

Dirk nodded, glad his rambling had been useful. “I was in a government prison for psychics.”

Hobbs sighed admiringly, handing Dirk and Todd each a jacket. “That is…that is so dang cool,” he said, taking a step back. “Anyway, your experience with this kind of thing might come in useful.”

“Not psychic, huh?” Todd said with mock-derision, nudging Dirk as the covers slipped off them.

“Useful shorthand for normal people,” Dirk said in mild exasperation. “Darling, would you _please_ just let me have this?”

“Are they always like this?” Tina asked, elbowing Farah. “Cutest fuckin’ thing I’ve ever seen.”

“For like two and a half weeks now, um, yeah,” said Farah, deadpan. “They’re always like this.”

“We got off on the wrong foot yesterday,” said Hobbs, abruptly hugging Tina. “I’m Sheriff Sherlock Hobbs, and this is my Deputy, Tina Tevetino.”

“Five days sober!” announced Tina, proudly, still gnawing on her strawberry Pop-Tart. “Sorta.”

“You guys are comin’ out with us,” Hobbs insisted, releasing Farah so she could finish eating.

“You’re just…letting us go?” Farah asked, zipping up her jacket, which was slightly too large.

“Oh, no. No no no, _heck_ no,” said Hobbs, even as Tina interjected, “Yeah, basically.”

Dirk took the liberty of fixing Todd’s collar and zipping his jacket for him, unbearably excited.

“No no _no_ ,” Hobbs repeated. “You are—we are temporarily, uh, not reporting you for temporary assistance on an open investigation due to lack of current criminal activity in the vicinity. In the interim, you will be assisting us.”

“You’re helping us because you’re bored,” Todd said, leaning uneasily, or maybe tiredly, into Dirk.

“Yes, bingo!” Tina exclaimed, gesticulating as if Todd had won a tough round of charades.

“No, no—Tina, would you— _no_ ,” Hobbs cut in. “Anyway, out at that old farmhouse—we were thinking we’d go poke around with you folks, maybe do a holistic, like—like that stuff you were explaining to me yesterday, Dirk.”

“Poke around?” Farah echoed, but her eyes were fixed on Tina, who’d dashed back to her side.

“Do a holistic?” Todd muttered under his breath, side-eyeing Dirk in anticipation of a reaction.

“Am I in heaven?” Dirk asked, too happy to let Todd’s occasional stodginess ruin this for him.

“All right, out the door,” said Tina, steering Farah. “Here we go, there we go—let’s get moving.”

“You—you are terrible police officers!” Farah protested, but she wasn’t struggling terribly hard.

Tina nodded enthusiastically and mumbled, around the Pop-Tart stuffed in her mouth, “Uh-huh!”

“What you’re doing is illegal!” Farah pressed further, probably hoping to put a stop to this.

“Yeah, probably,” agreed Tina, and they vanished into the main office at the end of the hall.

Dirk was about to nudge Todd past the door of their cell when Hobbs stepped close. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a medicine vial.

“Now, listen, Brotzman,” he said. “Real quick, see, Mustard—that’s my orange tabby, full of personality, loves rap, can’t blame her—she’s an epileptic, and she takes these pills, Promadivan, much like the ones you dropped yesterday. Now, it’s a lower dosage, so you might need to take two, three, I don’t know—but I figure these could help you out.”

“Seriously?” asked Todd, in grateful dismay, accepting the unsolicited offering without protest.

“Yeah,” Hobbs said, grinning broadly, and turned to follow Tina and Farah down the hallway.

“Thank you,” Todd said as Hobbs left, looking about as gobsmacked as Dirk _didn’t_ feel.

“You’re welcome,” Hobbs called affably over his shoulder, beckoning to them. “Let’s go.”

Dirk caught Todd around the waist and pulled him in. “What a weird coincidence that Sheriff Hobbs would just happen to have a cat that would just happen to have the medication that you just _happen_ to need, Todd.”

Todd didn’t hesitate to pin Dirk against the bars with a kiss. “I think these people are crazy.”

“Yes,” Dirk agreed, “I’m a bit worried about that, but have you _noticed_ the way Tina looks at Farah?”

“Don’t rub it in,” Todd said, tapping Dirk’s chest. “Being smug’s not gonna earn you points in bed.”


	8. Go With the Flow

All Todd could think as he pushed his way through unyielding bodies was that he had to find Dirk, had to get to him before Suzie Boreton did. He had no idea why Suzie’s frustrated, unintelligible shout at the back was followed by a hushed exclamation from the crowd.

And, as the universe would have it—as the universe always did—that’s when he spotted Dirk.

Elated, Todd caught Dirk, who was intently rubbing his own face, by the shoulder and spun him around. He couldn’t blame Dirk for doing that; his skin looked more touchable than ever.

“Dirk!” exclaimed Todd, unabashedly relieved when Dirk broke into a smile and grabbed hold of him in turn. “Dirk, I was so afraid I wouldn’t find you, because…”

Because kissing Dirk was what he needed to be doing right that instant, and, judging by the fact Dirk was already eagerly leaning in, Dirk agreed. Despite the urgency of first contact, they kissed unhurriedly, savoring each interminable second. 

Finally, Todd broke away, determined to reassure Dirk of how he felt about him at all costs.

“Dirk, you need to know,” he said breathlessly, still clutching at Dirk, “you changed my life! You showed me everything I’d been doing wrong! I didn’t believe in anything, and my life felt so small. I treated other people like they were small, too.” He paused to fill his lungs, mesmerized at how intently Dirk was listening. “That’s bad! That’s…lame! That’s over! We went back in time, remember?” 

Dirk stopped giggling and nodding long enough to kiss him again, and Todd felt dizzy with it.

“I believe Wendimoor is real!” Todd said, powerless to resist another swell of emotion. “We’re gonna find the boy, and find Amanda, and we’re…Dirk, we’re gonna be together forever!”

It was possible Dirk might cry, but the sound he made against Todd’s lips was happy enough.

“Todd, you saying this to me is the single most important thing that has ever happened in my entire life—I mean, except probably when you kissed me at the hospital, because that was _brilliant_ ,” Dirk gushed, nuzzling Todd’s cheek with the same fascination he’d shown for his own. “You are the first person I’ve ever met who actually, well, _wanted_ me, let alone wanted me around!”

Todd decided to see what was up with that, apologetically stroking Dirk’s neck. “I didn’t at first—”

Dirk shook his head in forgiving agreement, sighing as he leaned into Todd’s touch. “Not at first—”

“But I caught on,” Todd insisted, trailing his fingers along Dirk’s jaw. “I evolved, I fell in love with—”

“Yes, Todd, so did I,” Dirk agreed beatifically, “but, listen, I think something’s been done to us, possibly supernatural, and it is…oh, this is great, _you’re_ great!”

Overwhelmed, Todd used the fact that both of his hands were on Dirk’s unbelievably lovely cheeks to pull him back down into a kiss. If they were under some kind of spell—likely Suzie’s doing, although why she’d want this kind of vibe was beyond him—then they were at least compelled to do what they would’ve been doing before the night was out anyway.

Dirk grabbing Todd’s ass like this in public _did_ seem brazen, but Todd wouldn’t complain.

The moment was set off-kilter by Farah staggering up to them with both hands outstretched. She latched onto them, one shoulder each, beaming as she dragged them forward.

“Todd! Hi!” she said, extremely dazed, if seemingly happy to be in such a state. “Hey, Dirk!”

Todd clung to Dirk for support as both of them greeted her, winding his fist in Dirk’s shirt.

“Hey!” Farah replied, releasing them, raking her fingers through her hair. “ _Uh_ —my dad died!”

“What?” Todd asked, finding even his sympathy was dialed up to eleven. “Are—are you—”

Dirk didn’t say anything, but that about-to-cry quality had crept back into his luminous eyes.

“I’m—I’m okay!” Farah blurted. “I mean, he…he was sick for years, and he hated me! I don’t know, he just—he always made me feel like I was such a disappointment, you know? Like I was never good enough, but I know that that’s bullshit now, you know? That’s not real!”

Todd nodded at Dirk, hoping to reassure him that his wordlessness was fine, and then squeezed Farah’s shoulder. What the fuck kind of spell made somebody this chill about a dead parent?

“And, _oh_ —Dirk,” Farah went on, grabbing Dirk’s shoulder, “remember that time in Idaho on the way out here, when we were beside that lake, and Todd was having an attack and—and we just pulled it together? Oh, Todd, and we just—we found your medicine, and got you back on your feet, and it didn’t last as long and the trees were gorgeous, and everything was _fine_? I just wanted you guys to know that—that was the moment that I knew. I knew I didn’t need Eddie or anyone, because I’m not like them. It’s like you guys said when we were back at Amanda’s. _This_ is where I’m supposed to be. I mean, I’m—I’m one of the freaks! And I want to say that it makes me so happy to see you guys this happy, and I just— _yes_!”

After echoing Farah several times, and Dirk announcing how much he loved doing just that, Todd caught sight of someone approaching. Tina’s jittery movements were distinctive. She closed their circle on the opposite side, laying hands on Todd’s and Dirk’s shoulders. 

“I want to fuck everybody here!” Tina announced, grinning madly at each of them in turn.

Joyous though the ensuing group hug might have been, Dirk’s eyebrows pinched the second he noticed that Tina’s hand had slipped from Todd’s shoulder down to the small of Todd’s back.

“I’m sorry, Tina, but as much as I’m starting to care about you, too—you can’t have him,” Dirk insisted, breaking their entire arrangement just to gather Todd to his chest. “I _really_ don’t want to share, and it’s not that I harbor any hard feelings, it’s just—”

“Naw, man, I get it!” Tina cried, clapping enthusiastically. “You two are so sweet and—and fuckin’ _hot_ together it legit makes me sick, but in the, like, _thrilled_ to be sick kinda way? Don’t you think that, Farah?” she asked, grabbing Farah, a near-exact mirror of what had happened when Todd found Dirk. “Farah, _Farah_ , oh my gosh—speaking of hot, you are, like, the absolute bravest, _sexiest_ lady I have ever…”

“Tina, _aw_?” Farah said, half-questioning. “It’s amazing that I met you, and this is—um, really fast? Like, it’s a lot? In the best way! But I don’t even give a damn that I’ve only known you—”

“Like a few days at most,” Todd cut in, ruffling Dirk’s hair while Dirk pressed increasingly nippy kisses against Todd’s neck. “No offense, because you’re both the _best_ , but it kinda makes me and Dirk look like the height of old-fashioned courting? Just, well, remember that shit you tried to give me while we were driving…”

Todd stopped talking, because, watching Farah lay one on Tina, what else could he really do?

Meanwhile, Dirk had gone curiously still, his breath ghosting unevenly against Todd’s ear.

“I want to find somewhere very quiet, or at least relatively quiet,” he said softly, sounding distressed, “where I can snog you senseless, and take my bloody time about it, too.”

“I don’t think we’ll find that here—” Todd let his head drop to Dirk’s shoulder “—and as long as Suzie’s still on the loose, Dirk, you’re not safe. And I want to keep you safe.”

“Would you believe that I honestly don’t _care_ if somebody’s watching?” Dirk whispered, unclipping Todd’s suspenders, untucking Todd’s shirt to tease at his skin. “I love you so much, Todd. So, _so_ unbelievably much that I…want to give you everything.”

How Dirk had leveraged this such that Todd went from chilled-out and lovestruck to desperately turned-on in less than a minute, Todd had no idea. But he wasn’t complaining.

Todd lifted his head and yanked Dirk closer by the lapels, scrabbling at the glow sticks’ cord. 

Suddenly energized, Dirk helped Todd wrangle it off him and looped it around Todd’s neck.

“Is…is that a promise?” Todd asked, clutching the glow sticks with hopeful emphasis.

“Short of a ring,” Dirk murmured, admiring the adornment, “it’s the best thing I’ve got.”

Todd didn’t have time to ask Dirk if that meant they were engaged, so he filed it for later.

“Okie-doke, kiddos,” Tina said loudly, “this is gettin’ a bit hot and heavy over here. Farah’s worried somebody’s gonna get an eyeful of something they don’t want, I mean—even with all these lovey-dovey vibes, she’s lookin’ out for you guys. How ’bout I drive us back to the station? Hey! We got space in the back, y’all!”

“There’s the distinct possibility we’ll regret this in the morning,” Dirk whispered, “but really all I can think about is getting as undressed as we can be while remaining sort of decent, and—”

Thinking fast, Todd grabbed Tina’s hand and stuck it in Farah’s, and then wrapped Farah’s other hand around Dirk’s. He took Dirk’s free hand and started for the nearest exit.

“C’mon, let’s get outta here before Suzie spots us,” he said urgently, leading them through the crowd. “We’ll be safer back at the station for the night while this blows over.”

“I don’t think anybody’s taking you up on the invitation,” Farah said forlornly. “What a shame!”

“That’s _totally_ okay, babe,” Tina replied, tugging her along. “Got all I need right here.”

Between getting clear of the building and the edge of the parking lot, Tina had managed to accrue an extra four people. Farah looked pleased, so Todd tactfully didn’t ask.

Dirk called shotgun the instant Todd declared that he was driving. Tina drunkenly agreed.

On their arrival at the station, Todd couldn’t have been more relieved that Hobbs was nowhere to be seen. He helped Dirk out of the car and dragged him inside, ignoring the ruckus behind them.

They didn’t make it past evidence lockup, because Dirk pinned Todd fervently against the door.

Todd groaned in relief, pulling Dirk even tighter to him. They kissed slow and filthy, trembling.

“Not so fast, bucko,” Tina said, tapping Todd on the shoulder. “He wanted somewhere quiet.”

Dirk huffed, but he stopped clinging to Todd long enough to blink at her. “You remembered!”

“Yeah, okay,” Todd said, sliding from between Dirk and the door, eager to turn his back on their audience given the state both of them were in. “Dirk, c’mon. Maybe there’s…”

The door to Bart’s cell was wide open, and Bart was coloring intently on the floor. She waved.

“Under most circumstances, I’d call this a bad idea,” Dirk said, pulling Todd into the cell, “but she doesn’t look terribly dangerous right now, and there’s a bed available.”

“Hi, Dirk,” Bart said, blinking up at them in moderate confusion. “That’s a nice hat.”

Todd swept the article off Dirk’s head, wondering how long it had been there. “Here.”

Bart turned the yellow monstrosity over in her hands, shrugged, and put it on. “Thanks.”

“We’re, um,” Dirk said, already sitting on the edge of the lower bunk, removing his shoes, “going to borrow this mattress since you don’t need two. Todd, do you _mind_?”

Shaking his head, Todd kicked out of his shoes. He crawled onto the mattress beside Dirk, who was already—wow, his jeans and jacket were on the floor, too—under the covers.

“Jeez, gimme a sec,” Todd said, taking a moment to shed his borrowed pants and suspenders.

Dirk grabbed Todd’s wrist and tugged him beneath the threadbare sheets, shivering against him.

“You’re so beautiful, Todd, so…so good for me, and you feel just…just so _amazing_ when I hold you like this, and I want—” he pressed into Todd’s belly, tantalizingly hard “—I love you so much that it’s—”

“ _Shhh_ , _shhh_ ,” Todd whispered, sliding his hands down the back of Dirk’s boxers, swallowing the broken cry Dirk let slip against his mouth. “I love you, too. I know.”

“Whoa,” Bart said from the floor, the sound of her scribbling gone silent, “that’s really intense.”

“Tell her to be quiet,” whimpered Dirk, struggling to keep the occasional tight, desperate jerk of his hips under control. “Want to feel you, want to feel everything, _please_ —”

“Hey, Dirk, that stuff’s kinda private,” Bart admonished, scrambling to her feet in a flurry of paper. “As long as you guys are gettin’ weird like that, I’m gonna go talk with Panto.”

Todd stroked Dirk’s hair while she exited, brushing kisses up Dirk’s jaw. He rocked into Dirk, maddening and perfect, until the voices in the cell across from them faded to background static.

Dirk tensed, the string of curses he’d been mouthing against Todd’s temple breaking on a whine.

“Todd, I think,” he gasped, motionless beneath Todd as the tremors took him. “ _Shit_.”

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Todd whimpered, biting his lip, clutching Dirk tighter to him. “Dirk.”

As long as Todd kissed Dirk while they finished, he wasn’t loud. It wasn’t as if Bart didn’t know what they were doing, wasn’t as if the same thing wasn’t _also_ happening down the hall.

“Oh my _God_ ,” Dirk sighed, fingers busy and adoring in Todd’s hair. “That…that was…”

“Yeah,” Todd agreed, nuzzling Dirk’s cheek, too sated to care how sticky they were, “that was.”

Dirk yawned and wound his arms around Todd’s neck, humming as Todd withdrew his hands.

“Supernatural stuff, or…um, or not, you are my _most_ favorite person ever,” he mumbled.

“So are you,” Todd said sleepily, easing to one side, gathering Dirk as close as he could.


	9. Remember to Breathe

Dirk disentangled himself from a clingy, soundly-sleeping Todd around three in the morning to use the toilet, which meant the poor excuse for one in the corner of Bart’s cell. He felt relaxed and overheated, so he shed his shirt on the floor on his way back to the lower bunk.

The station was dark, and everything was quiet—except for Bart and Panto, who were both snoring on the bunk in the adjacent cell.

“Hey,” Todd yawned, curling up against Dirk’s chest once Dirk had settled. “S’matter?”

“I needed the loo,” Dirk whispered sleepily, closing his eyes. “Everything’s gone quiet.”

“Even the orgy out there?” Todd asked, slipping his hand beneath Dirk’s undershirt, skimming his palm along Dirk’s waist. “Where’s Bart?”

“Out like a light in Panto’s bunk,” Dirk said with a shiver, nuzzling Todd’s hair. “I checked.”

“Still wanna tell you how incredible you are,” Todd mumbled. “I hope this never wears off.”

“I always want to tell you how incredible you are,” Dirk replied, consciousness slipping away.

After a while, warm with sleep and the awareness that Todd was now spooning him and rubbing absent, half-awake circles on his tummy, Dirk sighed. And then blinked rapidly.

“Hi!” Bart exclaimed, hanging upside-down from the upper bunk with the cowboy hat in hand.

Dirk shrieked and recoiled, kicking Todd in the shin in his haste to scoot as far back as he could.

“ _Ow_!” Todd cried, struggling to sit up, almost hitting his head in his haste. “What the—”

Dirk kicked off the covers and scooted to the foot of the bed while Bart crawled onto the mattress beside Todd. She handed him the hat.

“Last night, all your friends,” she said, grinning, gesturing from the hat to Dirk until Todd put it on Dirk’s head, “they were out there yelling and kissing, and just…grabbing each other’s butts and giving each other compliments. And you guys were in here, kinda _doing_ stuff? It was a mess.”

Pulling the hat off his head, Dirk used it to shield himself and Todd from Bart’s leery appraisal.

“It—it was a mistake, coming in here,” he agreed, but that backfired, because Todd gave him a borderline-offended look. “Just to clarify, everything that led to us ending up here was _not_ a mistake,” he went on, appealing desperately to Todd, “but the act of coming in here—oh my _God_ , did that sound wrong— _was_.” He glanced back at Bart, who was staring at him in confusion. “Look, I am _not_ going to apologize for sleeping with the man I love, thank you very much. We shouldn’t have kicked you out of your cell, though, so _that_ , I will apologize for. I—I was in quite a state last night.”

Todd took the hat out of Dirk’s hand and set it back on his head. He rummaged in the covers, finding something pink and fuzzy.

“Your turn to be stuck in one of these,” he said, kissing Dirk as he draped it around Dirk’s shoulders. “Joking. I’m not upset. We were all in a state.”

“Yeah, somebody left that in here,” said Bart, shrugging. “They said you guys looked cold. Anyway, are you back to being scared of me?” she asked incredulously. “Why?”

“You tried to kill me!” Dirk shot back, shifting closer to Todd, who shifted closer in kind.

“This _again_?” Bart demanded, and whether she meant Dirk’s unapologetic fear or Todd’s display of affection, Dirk wasn’t sure. She looked fairly put-out about everything.

“Yeah, sorry,” Dirk retorted, wrangling his arms into the faux-fur coat’s sleeves. He shrank against Todd’s side, clutching at the glow sticks around Todd’s neck. “This forever.”

“It’s okay,” Todd said softly, sliding his arm around Dirk’s waist. “Rough night. Happens.”

“You’re sexy like this,” said Dirk, wistfully, winding his fingers in the glow sticks’ cord before smoothing Todd’s black t-shirt, “but maybe we should find our trousers?”

Todd looked about ready to kiss him, but he abruptly seemed to remember Bart was right there.

“Somebody took them away,” said Bart, as Todd climbed off the bed and reached to help Dirk.

“Then we’re going to _find_ them, which is what I just said,” Dirk snapped, racing past Todd to the door as soon as he was on his feet. Unlike the night before, it was locked.

“Dirk, relax,” Todd said, pulling Dirk’s hands off the bars. “She can let us out, no problem.”

Bart got up and sauntered over, leaning against the bars next to them. She glowered at Dirk.

“You know, I don’t get you,” she said. “You’re going through the same thing as me, I can tell. Do you even know how it works? I mean, you talk about the interconnectedness with all those big, fancy words, but do you even know what you are?”

“Do you?” Todd asked, stepping between them before Dirk could even draw breath. “Something tells me you don’t have any more idea than he does, but here you are just—I don’t know, riding his ass about it? Seriously. If you don’t have any useful insights here, I think we’re done.”

Bart rolled her eyes and glanced through the bars. “I’m just an assassin,” she demurred, tone dripping with irony, “but I’ll tell you what. I’m starting to get a feeling this will all end badly.”

She bumped the door with her hip, causing Dirk to jump. It swung open with an ominous creak.

“We certainly are winning at honeymoon-from-hell bingo, aren’t we?” said Dirk, reproachfully.

“C’mon,” Todd said, taking Dirk’s hand, dragging him out. “We need to find Farah and Tina.”

Find them, they did—in the midst of shooing twice as many strangers as had originally come back with them out of the station. Dirk stared at the empty pizza box on Tina’s desk, feeling both cheated and hungry. Todd noticed and flipped it open, pulling out two pieces.

“Heya, lovebirds,” Tina said, but all Dirk could do was stare at her awful shorts. “Sleep well?”

“Yeah,” Todd said, offering Dirk the larger of the two, which had BBQ chicken and pineapple.

“I love you _so_ much,” Dirk said, taking a bite. “Tina, he’s perfect. Isn’t he perfect?”

“Okay, guys, we’ve gotta focus,” Farah said, picking cheese curls out of her hair. “Somebody needs to get Panto,” she continued, waving a photo. “I want to question him about Suzie.”

“For you, babe,” Tina said, going on tiptoe to kiss Farah’s cheek as she walked past, “anything.”

Taking over holding the piece of pizza so he could stuff his face, Dirk studied the room. The sofa had been dismantled, cushions spread on the floor, and covered with a plaid duvet.

“Sleep well?” Todd asked Farah, glancing back and forth between her and the mess on the floor.

Farah huffed and cast about the room until she found Todd’s trousers. She threw them at him.

“Looks like you, um,” she said, eyeing Todd’s boxers, “did more than just sleep. At least Dirk had the sense to cover up with that—whatever that is.”

Dirk wrapped the pink coat tighter around himself, squaring his shoulders. “It’s _vintage_.”

Inasmuch as cold pizza was a better breakfast than Dirk had hoped for, a full stomach was no match for questioning a perplexed prisoner followed by enduring the demented raving of a witch on speakerphone.

Before Suzie was even finished with her tirade, Todd whisked him out of the office and into the station locker room. Dirk didn’t resist when Todd insisted on scrubbing them down in the cramped shower stall, willing the hot water and Todd’s touch calm him. Unfortunately, it didn’t work.

“I don’t deserve you,” he sighed against Todd’s slick temple. “You’ve set aside your quest to find Amanda just to make sure I’m safe. It’s not right.”

“I shouldn’t have to remind you, but it’s all the same thing,” Todd said, closing his eyes as Dirk rinsed the suds from his hair.

“I don’t know if I believe that,” Dirk whispered. “I don’t know what I believe about anything anymore, except for you.”

“Then let me believe enough for both of us, okay?” asked Todd, reassuringly, and kissed him.

Emerging dried and dressed to find Farah in uniform restored a modicum of normalcy, only to have it wrecked when Tina barged in with news of nine phone messages reporting a shot-up motel, government trucks, drones, and encrypted messages. Dirk’s heart sank. _Blackwing_.

Instead of having a go at Dirk for the strung-out, ready-to-throw-in-the-towel monologue that he couldn’t have held back if he’d tried, Todd just hugged him. Farah and Tina were adamant about having his back, so couldn’t they just head to the hospital to speak to Arnold already?

In the back seat of Tina’s truck, Dirk leaned against Todd the whole way there and toyed with the glow sticks, which Todd had stuck back around his neck. _For luck_ , he’d said.

Which ran out on them, of course it did, when Suzie Boreton stormed the hospital, killed Arnold, and separated them from Farah and Tina to boot. With the fire alarm ringing in his ears, Dirk could scarcely think as Todd hauled him out the back emergency exit and down the stairs.

“It’s gonna be okay, Dirk,” Todd insisted, breathless, leading Dirk by the hand. “I promise.”

“Much though I appreciate the sentiment,” Dirk managed numbly, “it most certainly is not.”

“We’ll—we’ll figure it out,” Todd stammered, tugging him toward an ambulance for cover. “We—we have to get out of here. We’ll regroup, we’ll—”

“There’s nowhere to go,” said Dirk, halting them, “and the boy is dead. So there’s no regrouping.”

Just then, an unfamiliar car screeched into view. Farah rolled down the window, beckoning.

“Let’s go!” she shouted, sounding like nobody Dirk would _ever_ care to contradict. “Now!”

Still, Dirk felt too desolate, too drained to do anything more than let Todd dictate his next move. 

That, apparently, was to slide into the back seat of Farah’s stolen car and endure Todd’s frantic, concerned fussing all the way to the Cardenas house. He curled desperately into Todd’s embrace, but it was easier not to respond otherwise. He was hopeless, undone.

And when they finally arrived—when Todd dashed from the car and called, “Dirk, with me!”—it was easier to fall to his knees in the grass. He stared at his hands, unthinking.

Farah’s admission of lacking ammunition wasn’t encouraging, not when Dirk recognized the ominous roar of the engine tearing up the road. Not when he knew who was driving.

“Dirk, stay with me,” Todd pleaded, helping Farah wrangle him to his feet and toward the house.

“I _am_ ,” Dirk said desperately, heart stuttering painfully in his chest, “but we don’t have the boy. We failed the case. There’s nowhere to go. It’s all pointless, isn’t it?”

“I’ve said this before, but maybe I’m the boy,” Todd said, both hopeful and facetious. “Right? Mona asked you to find one, and you did. Come on. At least we’ve gotta try.”

Dirk couldn’t even muster a response, so he stared helplessly at Farah before Todd hustled him up the stairs and inside. She had no hope of surviving the opponent she was about to face.

In the child’s room, surrounded by the mural awash in eerie light, Dirk collapsed in the corner.

Todd—his beautiful, dauntless, _foolish_ Todd—paced the floorboards, refusing to rest.

“Okay, Panto arrived on this bed, so it must somehow turn into a portal,” he said, lifting the mattress, knocking on the bottom to no avail. Realizing that Dirk had no intention of moving, he sighed and came over to kneel in front of Dirk, bowing until their foreheads touched. 

“Listen,” he urged, “Farah’s risking her life for us out there. And we need to help Amanda.”

Dirk shook his head, brushing one last, melancholy kiss against the corner of Todd’s mouth.

“You have meant more to me than anything, _anything_ ,” he whispered, “in this world.”

“Jesus, Dirk,” Todd hissed, tearfully kissing him back, “why the hell are you talking like this?”

There were footsteps downstairs, their owner’s swaggering gait steady, inexorable, and familiar.

“Because I know exactly who killed Farah,” Dirk replied. “He will kill you, too, and take me.”

“Svlad Cjelli!” called Osmund Priest, as he made his way up the stairs. “Time to come home.”

“Oh, _fuck_ no,” Todd seethed, hauling Dirk to his feet. “It’s the name they used on…”

“On the Most Wanted, yes,” Dirk said miserably, letting Todd urge him down onto the bed.

“You still haven’t told me the full story,” Todd said, climbing onto the mattress next to him.

“No,” Dirk murmured wistfully, stroking Todd’s face, “I haven’t. I meant to, Todd. I did.”

“Just, Dirk,” Todd said, pressing their foreheads together again, “ _focus_. I have—”

“A lot of people died today because of you!” Priest went on, his footsteps drawing ever nearer.

“—an idea,” Todd finished, his expression shifting to one of horror. “Who the hell _is_ that?”

“That’s Priest,” Dirk said, clinging to Todd. “He’s like—sort of a bounty hunter, only worse.”

“Dirk, _shhh_ ,” Todd said, pushing Dirk onto his back before rolling onto his. “If I’m right about this, the bed needs to be closed for something to happen. Can you help me?”

“Poor, confused, dangerous little Svlad Cjelli,” Priest went on. “Dirk Gently, Project Icarus. Always in trouble. Come back to Blackwing before anyone else _dies_ because of you!”

“Even if Farah might be—” Todd faltered “—I won’t die because of you. _Help me_.”

“Oh no,” Priest deadpanned, just outside. “The door is closed. However will I get inside?” He rapped lightly. “I’ve seen you and that boyfriend of yours during surveillance. Handsy.”

“Right,” Dirk whispered as Todd squeezed his wrist, feeling a surge of defiance. “I can try.”


	10. Run For Your Life

As they hurtled through an inky, indistinct void, Todd wondered if this was how Alice had felt tumbling down the rabbit-hole.

Dirk shrieked as a change in their trajectory wrenched their clasped hands apart, hurtled them upward through a fine spray of mist and into brightness. He was too far away for Todd to reach. Todd landed hard on his back, breath knocked from him, in what felt like pine-needles and leaf-mold over concrete. He heard the excruciating impact of Dirk’s landing.

“What?” Todd blurted, scrambling to sit up, finding himself intact. “Are we—we’re not dead, I don’t think we’re dead! I can’t believe that worked!” He crawled to Dirk’s side and helped him roll over, examining of much of Dirk as he could reach. “Dirk, are you okay?”

“Define okay,” Dirk groaned, clasping Todd’s arm, using the leverage to pull himself into a sitting position. He hissed in pain, curling forward against Todd. “ _Shit_. This isn't good.”

“Your shoulder,” Todd gasped, casting frantically about the room for a place he could prop Dirk and get his jacket off. “C’mon,” he urged, pointing to the moss-covered throne behind them.

Dirk got to his feet willingly, although the heaviness with which he leaned on Todd as they made their way up the low stone stairs was concerning. He grunted when Todd deposited him in the seat, shrugging out of his jacket with a grimace before Todd could assist him.

“Now I’ve really pulled my stitches,” he griped, slightly pacified when Todd got to work unbuttoning his shirt just enough to peel the right side back. “Feels all tingly. Not in a healing way.”

“Be quiet,” Todd said, prodding at the puffy, glued incisions. “You’re a little swollen, yeah.”

Dirk used their proximity, what with Todd standing between his legs, to pull Todd into his lap.

“I suppose we’ll never know as long as everything that’s supposed to be inside…stays inside?”

Todd tugged Dirk’s shirt back into place, redoing the buttons. “You need more antibiotics.”

“Reckless of them to dispense less than a week’s course,” Dirk agreed, staring at Todd’s mouth.

“Hey, Dirk,” Todd whispered, bumping Dirk’s cheek with his nose. “We’re in Wendimoor.”

“Might not be,” Dirk replied, only sounding half-serious as he brushed his lips against Todd’s. “It was a portal, Todd. We could be anywhere. This could be Miami, for all you know.”

Todd tilted Dirk’s chin up, until they were both staring through the ruins’ open roof in wonder.

“There’s a giant magical moon in the sky,” he insisted, grinning as Dirk hugged him. “Do you see the giant magical moon? This is not Miami!”

“I do,” Dirk agreed, pressing his palm to Todd’s cheek, “but it’s less magical than kissing you.”

“Oh my _God_ , dude,” Todd laughed between pecks, “we’re in another dimension! But, seriously, let’s go. If this is Miami, I’ll buy you whatever drink they’re known for.”

“Are you really trying to seduce me while we’ve got Amanda to worry about?” Dirk chided.

An unintelligible, bird-like squawk from somewhere overhead made them both jump in shock.

“I beg your pardon?” Dirk asked tremulously, almost dumping Todd off his lap as he twisted.

Todd, clinging to Dirk’s neck, came face to face with the perpetrator—who was now peering at them over the right-hand arm of the throne. Red hair, ashy white skin, deeply-sunken eyes.

“Whycomen shakesanrumble?” babbled the creature, jabbing an accusing finger. “Afeared!”

“I’m sorry, _what_?” Todd demanded, frowning just as fiercely as the creature frowned at him.

“Why come in shakes-and-rumble?” Dirk repeated, brows knit as he studied the creature and soothed Todd with both palms pressed to Todd’s back. “We made you…afraid?”

The creature nodded wildly, rocking back on its haunches before scampering down the stairs.

“Lotsa shakesanrumble,” she said matter-of-factly. “Bad shapes man goin’ out an’ back in.”

“I can’t belive we’re talking to—to—” Todd gestured in exasperation “—whatever you are?”

“Lots of rumbling,” said Dirk, in the pensive tone that meant confusion. “Out and back in.”

“Beastie, isn’ it?” enunciated the creature, tapping her chest. “ _Me_. An’ beauty-beauty boys…boyfriends?” she added, miming a kiss.

“Oh!” Todd exclaimed, gleefully pointing at Beast. “I understood that! I think! Um, we are.”

“Yes, in fact,” Dirk said, eyeing what still hung around Todd’s neck, “although we may in fact be more than that due to a hasty and possibly ill-advised action of mine while we were under the influence of some kind of enchantment from your world? It’s unclear.”

“ _Does_ it mean we’re engaged?” Todd teased, toying with the burnt-out glow sticks. “Is it some kind of obscure English betrothal custom? I was wondering about that last night.”

“Not if you don’t want to be,” Dirk sighed. “Sorcery isn’t conducive to permitting full consent.”

Beast’s eyes lit with understanding. “Beauty-beauty boys husbands! Make more hairs? Nice!”

Todd got to his feet and helped Dirk up while Beast wandered off to rummage in some leaves.

“Wait, did she say make _heirs_? I don’t think she understands how human biology…”

Dirk followed Beast over to the wall. His eyebrows knit as he watched her gather an armful of what looked like green pods, something that had been growing on the climbing vine.

“Borga,” she said, shoving one at Dirk, and then brought one to Todd. “Good chewin’ tum.”

“What in the hell,” Todd said, unwrapping the husk to reveal a burger. “I’m stuck on heirs.”

“No, _hairs_ ,” Beast said, situating herself behind Dirk so she could arrange his hair into sections and tie them off while he ate. “Two hairs, three…four, five hairs! See, Bibbit look all nice?”

“She’s suggesting a style for the ceremony,” Dirk whispered loudly. “Misguided, but kind!” He swallowed, looking to Todd in dismay. “This is actually really goo—wait, _Bibbit_?

Beast nodded, abandoning her efforts on Dirk’s head. “You Bibbit,” she explained, shuffling over to sit beside Todd as he sat down cross-legged across from Dirk. “Todd hairs short. Make long like beauty boy, wait,” she added, rubbing Todd’s stubble. “Unprickly face?”

“No, absolutely _not_ ,” Dirk said emphatically, his mouth full. “No shaving. I forbid it.”

If it wasn’t strange enough that Beast’s grammar started to make sense the longer you listened to it, what happened next was even stranger.

During the course of their three-way, disjointed burger-bush dinner conversation, Dirk veered into maniacally ranting about nonsensical clues, which resulted in the Bergsberg boat being mentioned. Todd had not even had time to consider its implications.

Prompt as you please, Beast scampered back to the vine, drawing it away from the wall. Which had, at some point, been drawn _on_.

 _THE INFANT, MALE, POLLOCK, FRANCIS_ in its eerie, misty field was unmistakable, rendered by the same hand as the Cardenas house murals.

By the time they’d dropped their half-eaten food on the floor, an entire story had unfolded beneath Beast’s leaf-plucking fingers. _The_ story, seemingly, that Dirk had been waiting for—which he teased thrillingly from image to disjointed image, talking himself to distraction, until his astonished eyes fell on the figure holding a sleeping child in its arms.

“Oh, Todd,” he breathed, fumbling for Todd’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “Solved it.”

“That coma guy you told me about, in Blackwing,” Todd gasped. “Project—Project Moloch?”

Dirk squeezed Todd’s hand, beaming at him, and then looked to Beast. “Brilliant, isn’t he?”

“I dunno whatsis,” said Beast, in eager perplexity, “but Beastie help Bibbit an’ Todd-friend!”

Setting out to find Amanda, to find anyone who might matter in the grand scheme of figuring out how to get _the_ boy from Blackwing to Wendimoor, was going to be more interesting with Beast along for the hike. They let her tag along, grateful for a guide through the trees.

Getting caught in a net as they traipsed through the Kellum Knights’ camp, to Dirk’s frustration and Beast’s amusement, was not something Todd could’ve foreseen. Nor was getting accosted by none other than Panto’s partner, Silas, and his hulking bodyguard.

Dirk’s effusive affection toward Todd went a long way to convincing Silas to convince Wygar to stand down. And when Todd addressed Dirk by name, Silas _really_ went nuts.

How fortunate for Silas, to acquire the living embodiment of a prophecy en route to a clandestine meeting with his lover’s sister. Did the whole damn Trost clan have pink hair? How much more fortunate, on arrival, for Todd to discover his _own_ sister in the company of Panto’s sister, Litzibitz, and Silas’s presumed-dead younger brother, Farson. Coincidence?

The chaotic, shouted back-and-forth that ensued reminded Todd of the tossing-Lydia-off-a-bridge affair, although he wasn’t about to say as much. Dirk seemed stressed enough.

“This is fucking _crazy_!” Vogel shouted, peering out from behind Amanda’s shoulder.

Before Todd and Silas could convince Litzibitz that Dirk was really _the_ Dirk Gently of legend, the arrival of two furious parents and their armed hangers-on complicated everything. Todd could see why Silas and Panto weren't having this.

In the thick of it, Amanda’s efforts at peacemaking drove a lone bullet through Farson’s heart.

Not even escaping by the skin of Beast’s clever teeth, down vines dangling from the bridge, was enough to soothe Dirk’s grief. Alone again, the three of them ran until Dirk couldn’t anymore.

“It’s my fault,” Dirk insisted, each ragged sob he muffled against Todd’s chest prompting a whimper from Beast, who’d taken to pacing around the brush-patch where Todd had bedded them down. “I couldn’t even help you convince them I’m _me_ , and then—”

“You didn’t kill those people, Dirk,” Todd insisted, alarmed at the clammy heat of Dirk’s skin as he stroked Dirk’s cheek, his forehead, his neck. “They killed each other. With _guns_.”

Beast dashed over, each whimper more urgent. “Gettin’ nighty-night time dark. Bibbit sick.”

Todd nodded at her fearfully, reluctant to let Dirk hear him repeat what she'd just articulated.

“Hear screamin’ way-way out,” Beast told Todd. “Todd-sister an’ her beauty boy lockin’ cage.”

“Amanda and Vogel are alive?” replied Todd, in disbelief. “You’re sure that’s what you heard?”

Beast nodded reassuringly, gathering branches to cover them with. “Bibbit sleetzin. Todd sleetz.”

“Yeah,” Todd agreed, cradling Dirk’s dead weight protectively against his chest. “G’night, Beast.”


	11. Remake the World

Once Beast had roused them from slumber and brought some thick-skinned fruit that, torn open, tasted like cotton candy, Dirk tried his best to ignore the persistent throb in his shoulder. Todd’s fussing made him determined to put on a brave face.

Their chance-stumbling across a Kellum truck in the next clearing was further complicated by the Rowdy 3’s simultaneous appearance. Lacking Amanda and Vogel, they seemed tetchy, ready to treat Dirk’s state of distress like a mid-morning snack.

Dirk’s reckless attempt at self-defense led to Martin slapping him. That, in turn, led to Todd defending Dirk’s honor rather dramatically with Farah’s brass knuckles—as well as to Todd acquiring another impressive black eye. 

Dirk kissed him for it, and that put an uneasily perplexed stop to the mêlée on all fronts.

Beast held the other two at bay while Todd checked Dirk for injuries and Dirk explained to Martin what had become of their companions. With a vehicle at their disposal, reaching Inglenook would take no time. 

The double execution they encountered there called for a daring impromptu rescue, which included Todd restraining Amanda from dashing off into the fray after Vogel while Dirk challenged Silas to a scissor-swords duel. Grateful for Todd’s quick thinking and even quicker right hook, he was dizzy by the end of it—bleeding, but victorious. 

Todd kissed him for _that_ , and the look on Amanda’s and Vogel’s faces was priceless.

As they made their escape in the Kellum truck, Beast insinuated herself between Dirk and Todd.

“Beauty-beauty boyfriends brave,” she crooned, directing her singsong at anyone who’d listen.

Amanda, processing that on top of the kiss, abruptly punched Todd in the shoulder. “You slut!”

“Hey, _ow_ ,” Todd said, shoving her halfheartedly in return. “We don’t get a thank-you?”

“I assure you there’s plenty of wantonness on both sides,” Dirk protested. “Mutual sluttery.”

“Oh my God, that’s TMI,” Amanda sighed, busy examining an unconscious Silas. “But seriously, you got my brother to put out? Nice job, Dirk!”  
Dirk’s thoughts instantly looped back to a transgression his irked conscience wouldn’t let go.

“I left you an apology note about the lack of tidying,” he blurted. “I’ll sort the sheets, honest.”

“What did you do to my house?” Amanda asked. “Like the broken window wasn’t enough?”

“Uh, boss,” said Vogel, in a loud whisper, “I think it’s what they did _in_ your house.”

“In Beastie house, kissin’ an’ sleetzin’,” Beast volunteered. “Bibbit sleetz, Todd-friend sleetz—”

“Well,” Dirk cut in, appealing guiltily to Amanda, “in yours, we sort of did those things, too.”

“I cannot _believe_ we’re having this conversation right now,” Todd muttered. “Stop.”

“Maybe you guys should rent the place,” said Amanda. “I’m never sleeping in that bed again.”

Dirk gave Beast an apologetic pat on the head, and then crawled around her to settle with Todd.

“She was going to find out sooner or later,” he said contritely, resting against Todd’s shoulder.

“You’re burning up,” was all Todd said, the shape of his frown vivid against Dirk’s forehead.

“Also maybe we should wait to tell her the other news,” Dirk said, clutching the glow sticks.

“What other news?” Amanda asked, tying off the bandage she’d put around Silas’s arm, crawling over to look at Dirk’s. “Lemme guess, those Blackwing fuckwads wrecked the place so that I don’t have to torch it?”

“We’re, uh, pretty serious,” Todd said while Amanda tended to Dirk’s cut. “About each other.”

“That ain’t news to me, dude,” Amanda replied, chuckling as she applied something that stung.

“I swear these were the only thing on hand,” said Dirk, tapping the glow sticks as he passed out.

Regaining consciousness next to Silas under a tree was the last thing that Dirk had expected to come next. But, given that Todd didn’t look bent out of shape, the circumstances must’ve been innocent. He felt well enough to explain his conclusions to everyone, so he did.

Minutes later, fleeing Suzie Boreton while Wygar gave his life to stall her, he was too caught up in tears to breathe. He let Todd drag him as they ran, numb with pain both old and fresh.

Once they were deep enough in the woods to slow their pace, having parted ways with Silas, Dirk and Amanda took on the problem of how to get _the_ boy out of Blackwing. However, that only resulted in upsetting Todd to the point of a pararibulitis attack. 

While Amanda talked him through some kind of visualization nonsense, Dirk clung to him.

“I know you don’t want me going back in there,” he whispered, “but there isn’t a better way.”

“Like hell there isn’t,” said Todd, shakily, unwinding _actual_ barbed wire from his thigh.

Dirk focused on doing the only productive thing that he could, which was open the pill bottle he’d fumbled from the pocket of Todd’s jacket. He handed Todd the adjusted dose.

“Hope Mustard’s doing okay without her meds,” Todd said, dry-swallowing the pills. “Thanks.”

Safe arrival back where they’d started only meant more peril, and Amanda’s inability to keep the pool-turned-portal open without Todd’s assistance was the last straw. They’d come to it.

While the Rowdy 3 sauntered out to stall Suzie, who drew ever nearer, Dirk ran his mouth in abject panic until Todd made him stop. He cradled Dirk’s face in his hands, pleading.

“Don’t spin out,” Todd insisted, brushing at Dirk’s tears. “Please. I know you can do this.”

Amanda made an exasperated noise and started to pace when Dirk kissed him, but tough luck.

“Okay,” Dirk whispered, finally releasing him. “If you can do the thing with the wire, then I…”

 _Love you_ , Todd mouthed, backing toward the opposite end of the pool from Amanda.

Dirk gave him a wistful, heartfelt nod, scrambling up the rocky embankment and into position.

Meanwhile, Beast had shuffled into her favorite vine-covered corner, whimpering in despair.

“Listen to Bibbit,” Dirk said, drawing her attention as he stepped forward. “Keep them safe.”

“Todd-friend an’ Todd-sister smart, stay with Beastie!” Beast ranted. “You stupid baboon!”

 _Don’t panic_ , it turned out, was an extremely useless mantra while one was in free-fall.

Blackwing’s corridors were just as Dirk remembered them, only louder and more distressing thanks to gunfire and klaxons. Running into Rapunzel was one thing he definitely couldn’t deal with, and being at the mercy of someone named Lieutenant _Assistent_ was another.

When the smoke finally cleared, Mona materialized from amidst the debris on the floor. Her embrace was so welcome that Dirk couldn’t bring himself to berate her for causing him pain.

Mona’s quick thinking, not dissimilar to Todd’s, got them exactly where they needed to go.

Dirk would have liked to think Project Moloch was happy to see them, but Hugo Friedkin’s intrusion, with a gun to Dirk’s increasingly spinning head, put a damper on things. He was lost, though, and Mona could see it. His beautiful, brave, _wise_ Mona won the day.

With Friedkin’s help, they got Moloch’s bed to the portal—or, rather, where it should’ve been.

Supervisor Adams’s arrival should have been welcome. This was Bart’s beloved Ken, Ken who had once saved Lydia Spring in the nick of time by fixing a broken time machine.

“Ken, listen to me,” said Dirk, with fierce urgency. “You have no idea what is going on here.”

“Don’t you condescend to me, Svlad,” Ken sneered, raising his gun higher, “you fast-talking freak. You don’t even understand your abilities. You wander through out-of-control situations, fumbling everything you touch. But if you’re here now, there’s a chance that this is where you’re meant to stay. And I’ll be damned if I’m letting the debug function of reality walk out on my watch!”

“Then…you won’t kill me,” Dirk realized, steeling his resolve, and reached for Moloch’s bed.

Trembling, Mona caught him when the searing pain of a bullet in his thigh knocked him back.

“You’re not just hurt, are you,” she whispered, fingertips against his jaw. “You’re very sick.”

Dirk nodded, determined to resist. He set himself back to the excruciating task of wrestling Project Moloch— _the_ boy, at last—out of bed.

What happened in the next few seconds involved a lot of transformations, from Mona-to-her-favorite-of-Dirk’s-jackets to Hugo-to-sincere-ally. They fell and _fell_. That Dirk should land at Amanda’s side, precisely where Todd lay suffering, was no surprise.

“Rise and shine,” said the boy, bright-eyed and beaming away as he disarmed Suzie Boreton.

“Todd, please tell me you’re okay,” Amanda begged, shifting so Dirk could take hold of Todd.

“I love you, too,” Dirk pleaded, pushing uselessly at the rings that bound him. “I should have said it before I went through, I _know_ I should have said it—Todd, _please_.”

Expression grave with understanding, the boy waved his hand. “I know your story,” he said.

Todd gasped, free of his bonds, clutching at both Dirk and Amanda like his life depended on it.

What came next involved all three of them shouting accusations at Suzie, who vanished when the boy waved his hand again. Dirk sagged into Todd, feeling more unsteady than ever.

“You’re just in time,” he murmured when Todd touched his face. “I may _actually_ be dying.”

“You’re not,” Todd insisted, helping Dirk get to his feet with support from Amanda and Beast.

“Can _we_ not right now?” Amanda cut in, pointing at their rescuer. “That’s the boy!”

“Francis,” said the boy. “My name is Francis. Thanks for bringing me back, Dirk. I’m sorry it was so confusing. The mage is dead. Your friends back home already stopped him.”

“Farah,” Dirk sighed in relief, even as Todd and Amanda reached the same conclusion. “So…”

“She needs your help,” Francis went on. “I’ll send you back with a gift. It’ll be the last thing I make in the old world. The Rowdy 3 are okay, but I suppose they’ll want their special car back.”

“What about me?” Amanda asked, protesting, disappointed. “I still have things to learn here.”

“No,” Francis said, admonishing all of them. “You have big things to do in the other world.”

Mona transformed just in time to help Dirk limp forward and settle him on the stone stairs.

“Hello, Francis. It’s nice to meet you,” Mona said, and draped herself back over Dirk’s shoulders. She changed back into Dirk’s jacket before anyone could react.

“Thank you for your help, Mona,” said Francis. “I couldn’t have done this without you, Dirk.”

“Can I…” Dirk swallowed, delirious, struggling for words. “Can I ask you—do you know what I am? Do you know… _why_ I am?”

“I know a little,” Francis said. “We’re supposed to help fix things. That’s what all of us are. Tools…to fix the broken universe. There’s problems in reality. You’re supposed to repair them. Each of us has a different purpose. You help people be where they should be.”

“If we don’t repair our friends or…whatever happened back at home,” Todd began fearfully.

That led to Francis telling them what they already knew: that they’d created their own world, their own family, and that they needed to get back to it. And, with a wave, they did.

They arrived at the quarry, where Farah and Tina and Hobbs had fallen in some kind of shoot-out. Amanda was gone, so Dirk and Todd loaded the wounded into their gift.

At the nearest hospital, paramedics tended to the unconscious three first, seeing as Dirk and Todd were on their feet. Propping each other up, really, but ambulatory.

“D’you reckon there’s a hospital version of the Mile High Club?” asked Dirk, with a rueful grin.

Todd actually looked scandalized. “I hate to say it, but the condom thing’s even more on hold.”

Dirk sighed, leaning on Todd as they hobbled through the sliding doors. “It was worth a shot.”

“Maybe I _should_ marry you as soon as possible, though,” Todd replied. “Just in case.”

“Yes,” Dirk agreed, halting them in their tracks, using the glow sticks to pull Todd in for a kiss.


End file.
